Trial of a Warrior

by Mary Morgan

  “You were carried away by the wee sprites,” he chided, aching to reach out and take her in his arms.

  “Yes. They helped soothe the worries, though only temporarily.”

  “Would you like me to request a garment from one of the women?”

  Abela turned back around and brushed her hands down the front of her gown. “No. I favor this green gown, and it will be easy to blend in with the trees. I don’t want to draw attention with some of their more colorful clothing.”

  Liam reached out and traced a finger over the neckline of her gown. “Yet, you have managed to add the ancient pattern of our people in the silver trim.”

  She visibly trembled from his touch and took a step back. “It was one of the oldest gowns I could think of wearing.”

  “Are any of your other powers dwindling?” he asked.

  Shaking her head, she replied, “No.”

  Clasping his hands behind him, Liam smiled. “A few more days, Abela, and then we can go home. However, if you sense any other changes or shifts in your magic, do not hesitate to come to me.”

  Her mood suddenly appeared buoyant. “Yes, you are correct. I will take this time to honor the land.”

  “Excellent.”

  Taking a hold of his arm, Abela steered him toward the trees and the camp. “I will accompany you while you make the request for the wagon to be moved. Do you think they can give me some food as well? Come the morning, I deem it wise if I stay away.”

  “Midsummer’s Eve,” he acknowledged, lifting a pine branch out of their way. “Yes, I can fetch us some food.”

  “Will you be staying within the camp?”

  “Absolutely not.”

  Abela halted their progress. “Then what are your plans?”

  Liam had no intention of falling under the spell of Midsummer or the bewitching minx studying him with her glittering lavender eyes. His gaze lowered, and he yearned to taste those pouting lips. His iron control was beginning to falter. “I will sleep under the stars far away from everything and everyone.”

  She arched a brow skeptically. “Where?”

  Tapping a finger against his head, he responded, “It’s a secret.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “Do you not trust me?”

  “I hear a challenge in your question. If I divulge I am nearby, will the knowledge scare you?”

  She looked affronted and pushed away from him. “Of course not. I don’t know why you’re being secretive.”

  He watched her progress through the trees until she had entered the camp. It was going to be a long two days. As he slowly made his way to the O’Malley’s wagon, Adam emerged from the side, blocking his path.

  Liam shifted his stance. “Is there something you require?”

  “If ye are seeking an audience with O’Malley, ye must wait.”

  “Then I’ll direct my request with you. I require the wagon for Abela to be moved across the river. In addition, if we could partake of some food it would be appreciated.”

  The man frowned and scratched the side of his face. “Again ye wish to move the wagon?”

  “Yes.”

  Uncertainty flickered within his eyes. “I will ask O’Malley.”

  “If there is a problem, I will do the chore myself. No need to bother O’Malley with this undertaking. I will let him know I handled it on my own.” Liam didn’t want to debate a simple task with the man and started for the main part of the camp.

  “Nae!” shouted Adam, barking out orders for several of the other men to follow him.

  His annoyance now tempered, Liam nodded. “Thank you.”

  The air was heavy with wood smoke and meat, making Liam queasy. Steadily moving away from the main part of the camp, he came upon young lads playing a game of knucklebones. Their enthusiasm was contagious, and Liam marveled at the competition between two of the boys.

  “I dare ye to pick up all five and flip them from the back of your hand to your palm,” challenged a lad with a mop of red hair.

  “Can ye do the same?” asked the boy who was challenged.

  “Aye,” he boasted.

  Watching in fascination, Liam settled himself against the bark of a pine tree. One of the other boys caught his gaze and nudged another sitting next to him. All conversation and playing ceased.

  “Do continue,” encouraged Liam with a wave of his hand.

  The lad with the red hair shook his head. “Are there any here ye favor?”

  Stunned by the lad’s question, he replied, “Why would that matter? This is a game of skill.”

  “Ye…ye might use magic on one of us.” The boy peered around the clearing, fearing someone would hear him use the word.

  “Aye, he might,” echoed the others in the circle.

  Liam shrugged dismissively. “In any competition, the rules of the game are set. I merely wanted to observe. If I favor one lad over the other, it is simply because of their skill. I have no desire to use magic, but to find out who is the champion.”

  “Should we bind his hands?” asked another boy.

  Narrowing his eyes, Liam shook his head. “Not a wise choice. Would you feel more comfortable if I was not present?”

  The lad with the red hair smiled. “If my father doesn’t fear ye, then we will not.”

  Liam had already surmised O’Malley was his kin by the eyes, jut of the chin, and mannerisms. “Are you sure?”

  His smile faded, and he swallowed. “He says ye should never show fear to your foe.”

  “Am I your enemy?”

  “No! But…ye are different.”

  Folding his arms across his chest, Liam countered, “We are all unique, and I am not your father’s enemy.”

  The lad appeared confused. “Then what are ye?”

  Liam chuckled. “We have a mutual partnership. Do you understand the word? And I am positive your father has explained who I am.”

  “I do,” blurted out another boy. “I ken the meaning.”

  “Good,” acknowledged Liam and pointed to all of the boys. “When you are older, remember this conversation. You might have need of my services or another warrior from my realm. You will age and fade from this world, but I and my people are forever beneath the land.” He leveled his gaze on the red-headed lad. “And when you become leader, be very careful who you call an enemy—regardless how different they appear.”

  All the boys nodded in unison.

  Relaxing against the tree, Liam gestured outward. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to observe this game of knucklebones. It’s been many years since I’ve played.”

  The red-headed boy exchanged looks with the other lads and then stood. Approaching Liam, he held out his hands with the knucklebones and ball. “My name is Dylan. Would ye like to play?”

  “I thought you’d never ask,” responded Liam in a casual, jesting way.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Once upon a Midsummer, I ran barefoot through the soft meadow carpeted with fragrant wildflowers and swam with the dolphins in the waterfalls near the creation of life.”

  ~Diary of Princess Abela

  Departing the wagon before the first rays of sunlight kissed the land, Abela ran barefoot through the trees. When she reached the clearing, she opened her arms in greeting. The chill of the morning seeped through the soles of her feet, but her heart basked in the warmth of the approaching dawn.

  “Midsummer’s Eve,” she uttered softly. “Your daughter welcomes the turning of the season.”

  Regardless of where she stood, Abela could still feel the pulse of the land. The human world wasn’t as opulent as the Fae realm, but it had an exquisite beauty of its own. Trees swayed in the breeze around her, moving in a peaceful rhythm. She hugged her arms around her body and watched the new day beginning.

  A stag emerged from the trees, majestic and proud. She bowed her head in welcome. The noble animal wandered to her side.

  “Greetings, my friend. Will you stay and hail the new day with me?” Abela gently touched his forehead with her finger
s.

  His whisper of acknowledgement brushed across her mind. Letting out a sigh, Abela turned from the animal and waited in silence as the sky turned a rosy hue. A few clouds gathered in the distance, but it did not distract from the shimmering beams of light. She closed her eyes and reached out with her Fae senses, drawing the energy into her body, and then released it back into the land.

  Abela remained rooted to the ground for some time. When she opened her eyes, her new-found friend had silently slipped back into the trees.

  This was what she had missed. Her daily ritual of welcoming the new dawn. She’d forgotten how centering the action was on her mind and body. Quickly checking her shields, Abela knelt on one knee. Placing her palm on the ground, she murmured a silent prayer of thanks and protection over the land.

  A four-leaf clover caught her attention, and she passed her hand over the delicate leaf. “For luck and long life,” she uttered softly. “It is enough that you have presented yourself, and I will leave you for another to snatch into their care.”

  She stood and continued to enjoy the quiet solitude. Once again, sleep had been elusive. She yearned to rest under the stars and not be confined to a wagon. However, when she suggested the idea to Liam, he quickly cut her off and demanded she return to the wagon's safety. Abela fought the harsh words she threatened to spew at him. Yet, she never closed the covering and enjoyed a partial view from her shelter.

  Glancing at her gown, she drew in a long breath and released it slowly. Passing a hand over the front of her, Abela concentrated. The energy shifted, but she was unable to magically transform the garment into another gown.

  “Nothing?” asked the low voice behind her.

  “Only a slight tremor of power.” She kept her gaze on the glowing ball of light ascending into the morning sky.

  “Would you like me to fashion one for you?” The timber of his voice sent a delicious thrill down her back.

  What was wrong with her? Her nerves skittered with him being so close. “I thought you liked this gown?”

  Liam stepped to her side. Though the morning was brisk, the heat of his body surrounded her. Abela wanted to lean against the man.

  His hand skimmed across her arm. “What would you like to wear on Midsummer’s Eve?”

  Abela visibly shuddered. “Pale yellow and silver for the coming light,” she replied softly.

  He kissed her cheek. “Done.”

  She gasped and fingered the material. Glancing at Liam, his smile was as intimate as their kisses. “Thank you.”

  “All my pleasure.” He swept his gaze outward. “It never changes, does it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The beauty of a new day. As a Fenian Warrior, we began each morning and evening, honoring the light and dark. The ancient words flowed within me, no matter where or what I was doing.”

  Abela studied his features—from the chiseled jaw to his eyes, which mirrored the shimmering stars and oceans of their home. His dark auburn hair glinted in the early morning light. Her hand twitched, aching to touch the strands.

  He returned his attention to her. “Your emotions are showing, Abela. You might want to seal them.”

  She blinked in confusion and took a step back. Did he invade her thoughts again?

  “Midsummer’s Eve is a potent time. A time of feasting, sowing seeds, and making love,” declared Liam.

  Her face heated. “I was not thinking of lovemaking,” she argued, though she was sure her thoughts would have eventually led her to desiring his lips. “Merely observing your features. A strong chin, mesmerizing eyes, and dark auburn hair that captures the radiance of sunlight.”

  He broke into a leisurely smile. “But nothing about my mouth?”

  “Egotistical Fae,” she teased and started forward.

  Liam reached for her hand, pulling her against his chest. He lifted her chin with his finger. “The lure of the land is potent this day and the next.”

  Abela was conflicted, but his earlier statement entered her mind. “Seal the emotions, Liam.”

  Slowly, he released his hold. “Touché.”

  “Have you been to the camp?” she inquired, grateful he had moved away. His nearness brought out desires Abela was finding hard to control.

  “Yes. I have deposited a basket of food in your wagon. The travelers have already started their feast. It’s one I deem will last for days.”

  “As it should,” she acknowledged. Noticing a patch of wildflowers, Abela crossed the open area toward them.

  “What are your plans for today?”

  Sweet Goddess. One moment he looks like he wants to devour me, and the next, he’s telling me to seal my emotions. Can the man not make up his mind? “Midsummer magic has muddled your thoughts, Liam MacGregor,” she muttered.

  “I heard that!” he shouted.

  She shrugged dismissively and decided to head back toward the river. The water lapped at the stones and boulders near the bank, its soothing sound calmed the burning desire to fling off her clothing and dance playfully on the lush grass.

  A splash brought her attention to the center of the river. She gawked at Liam making long strokes in the water. Was he insane? He had stripped to his trews, and Abela could see every muscle in his torso ripple with each movement.

  “Not fair,” she protested.

  He halted his progress and glided across the water toward her. “Then join me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?” He splashed playfully at her.

  “Are you addled?” she asked, avoiding his intense stare. “Go away, Liam.” I can’t be near you now.

  Abela continued along the bank, sealing off her thoughts about the enticing man.

  “I dare you to step into the water,” he challenged.

  She froze. Never one to back away from a dare, Abela bit her lower lip. She couldn’t look at him. “What do you want?”

  Silence was her answer. Darting a glance over her shoulder, she saw the answer reflected in the depths of his eyes.

  “To spend the day with you. Talking, swimming, learning about your life in the temple,” he responded. “If you’d rather be alone, I will understand.”

  Uncertainty filled her, and she bunched her hands at her sides. Droplets of water trailed down his chest as he stood in the water, and she became mesmerized by the sight. She should run away and hide herself in the wagon. Gathering her thoughts, she replied, “I will spend part of this day with you, but I am not swimming in the river.”

  His eyes danced with mischief. “Why not?”

  “Nothing to wear.”

  “I can always fashion something for you.” His hands glided back and forth in the water.

  “I will be content with dipping my feet in the river, but no more. When the first star blinks in the evening sky, I shall leave you.” Abela climbed onto a nearby boulder and dangled her feet into the water.

  Liam dove back under and then emerged floating on his back. He made lazy strokes in the water. The sun rose higher in the sky, warming her skin. She could spend the remainder of the day in this blissful silence. Yet, she had questions, too.

  “Were you happy, Liam?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Being a Fenian Warrior? With your life? Did you find contentment working for the Brotherhood?”

  He remained quiet as he steadily made his way toward her. When he neared the riverbank, he stood and raked a hand through his wet hair. He took a seat next to her on a fallen log and kept his gaze outward. “I enjoyed working with the Brotherhood. It was challenging, interesting, and I made a few human friends along the centuries. Was I content?” He shrugged. “Part of me.”

  Abela frowned. “What was missing?”

  Liam leaned forward, bracing his hands on his thighs. “You.”

  Abela’s lungs constricted, and her heart ached. Their time had slipped away, all because she refused to see him that night so long ago. She yearned to reach out and touch him. “Why are you sharing this now?
”

  He swept his gaze toward her. “Because I owe you honesty. Once we return, our paths will separate. You and I need closure, Abela.”

  Again she hated that word. There would never be a happy ending for them, but she would always be in love with Liam MacGregor. She had spent decades in isolation, trying to seal the wound left open by his departure. Yet the moment she had known of his return and imprisonment, her heart beat wildly. “Thank you for sharing,” she whispered.

  “And you? Was the temple a rewarding place of knowledge and admiration?”

  Smiling fully, she nodded. “Indeed. The beauty is exquisite. Beyond what you can imagine. It took many years to adjust to the opulent foliage, dazzling lights, and the air. It’s intoxicating.”

  “I pray they will allow you to return.”

  She shook her head slowly. “No. Even if it is possible, I do not want to go back.”

  He looked stunned and straightened. “Why ever not?”

  Abela sighed, clasping her hands in her lap. “Like you, I was never fully happy. In truth, I deemed I sought out the temple more as a haven. I required a time of peace and reflection. Away from the burdens inside my heart.”

  Liam stood and came to her side. “Did I cause this pain?”

  “It was my fault. Not yours,” she reassured.

  Turning his back on her, he fisted his hands on his hips. “Because of Conn’s words,” he uttered tersely. “Damn him.”

  Standing, Abela touched his arm. “Don’t blame him. I could have asked you. More to the point, he has suffered from a few poor decisions.”

  He looked at her incredulously. “The great Conn MacRoich? I doubt we’re talking about the same Fae prince.”

  She pinched him and began walking along the path away from the river and toward the wildflowers. Her emotions were wound so tight around Liam. “Again, you don’t know everything.”

  He caught up with her in two strides. Taking her hand, Liam tucked it in the crook of his warm arm. “You are correct. But without the current knowledge of the man, I can only deduce my own conclusions. Trust me, when I do see him there will be words.”

  She tried to pull her hand free. “So stubborn.”

  “One of the many qualities you admire.”