The Betrayer: Tales of Pern Coen (Legacy Book 1)

by Hannah E Carey

  Chapter 21

  Hunted

  They had left Caoirigh behind hours ago and Ciara’s heart was at least no longer racing as the horses slowed to a walk to better navigate the narrow, rock-laden trails. Rhew trotted along just in front of Gealach, showing no struggle with the difficult terrain. The wolf’s pink tongue lolled out of her mouth and her golden eyes were bright. Ciara had begun to wonder if Rhew thought the past few days were perhaps some sort of great game and she half-wished that she could have some of the wolf’s good humor instead of her own stress and anxiety.

  She was still seated behind Niall on Gealach, her arm wrapped around his waist. She’d been telling herself for the last few miles that it was purely self-preservation to keep herself from losing her balance and tumbling down onto the rocks, but that wasn’t entirely true. It was comforting being so close to him, not to mention the allure of feeling his muscles moving underneath her hands as they rode. He’d never been bulky like Bleddyn; Niall was more likely to be found in a tavern or a library than the practice yard, but he was still fit—distractingly so. She’d selfishly clung to the precious moments with him, blaming her rattled state and aching body for the personal weakness.

  Odran led their small party, knowing the wilderness of Seabhac far better than anyone else, while Maura brought up the rear, still ponying Rhosyn. It had been around midday when they had fled the tavern and now, through the breaks in the trees, Ciara could see hints of dusk on the horizon.

  “Stream up ahead,” Odran called back. “Might be a good place to make camp.”

  They all voiced their agreement, the quiet murmur of the water becoming easier to hear as they drew closer to the stream bank. Niall halted Gealach and Ciara reluctantly released her hold on him, trying to ignore the ache in her chest that followed. When she swung off Gealach, she was unable to hide her wince. Their abrupt departure and subsequent ride hadn’t done her aching side any favors.

  Niall frowned when she dismounted, placing a hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?”

  “The ride was long. I just need to rest.” She shrugged, unable to meet his gaze. She didn’t even want to think about how weak she probably looked to him. Odran’s tinctures had at least been helping her lungs. The tightness in her chest from the long ride was there, albeit faintly. She was all too aware of how far she had fallen from the woman who had been so close to becoming a warrior of Arth.

  Niall pressed his lips together, looking as if he might say more, but instead he nodded and dropped his hand. She walked over to Maura, taking Rhosyn’s reins and allowing the black mare to take a drink from the stream.

  “Thank you,” Ciara said, glancing over Rhosyn’s neck at the other woman.

  “You’re welcome,” Maura replied. “That was some impressive skill with a bow back there.”

  Ciara tried not to read too much into the passing comment, tried not to be too hopeful, but there was a warmth in the center of her chest at the other woman’s words. She murmured her thanks again while she waited for Rhosyn to drink her fill. As soon as the mare was done, Ciara took her and tied her to a nearby tree where Niall had tied Gealach. Their camp came together quickly, their small group splitting up the tasks among themselves.

  The job of gathering wood for the fire was left to Ciara. She set out into the nearby woods, careful to stay within sight of the others. As she scoured the forest floor for branches and kindling, she gritted her teeth. She needed to get Odran to look at her stitches, but the mindless task of gathering wood was proving an easy way to allow her to process the anger and frustration that coursed through her.

  She had known that Bleddyn would be angry about Niall’s escape, along with the role that she and Odran had played in it. But to hunt us like we are little more than animals? That thought left her clenching her jaw so tightly, it ached. They had hardly even had a moment to breathe since fleeing Ciall and she was left wondering if she would spend the rest of her life looking over her shoulder.

  Pushing her dark thoughts aside, she focused on gathering the rest of the wood before making her way back to their camp. Bending down and struggling to ignore the pain in her side, she began to stack the wood for the fire. She fumbled with the kindling, cursing under her breath, but someone gently rested a hand on her shoulder.

  “I can get this,” Niall said. “Let Odran take a look at you.”

  She bit her lip, tempted to refuse his offer, but her pain pushed down what little remained of her pride. Nodding, she got to her feet. Odran and Maura were pulling blankets and food from their saddlebags when she walked over to them. Odran took one look at her and motioned her back to the small blaze that Niall had started. She slumped down in front of it, grateful for its warmth as the sun continued to disappear in the sky and the air grew colder. After a few moments, Odran joined her while Niall and Maura set to preparing a meal. Odran gave her a tincture first to help with the pain. She took it before lifting up her shirt and helping him remove the old bandage.

  “The stitches are still in at least,” he said. “It would be best if you take it easy for the next few days though and allow this to finish healing.”

  She swallowed against the painful lump in her throat, not sure she had such a luxury. She wasn’t certain how far they now were from Arth’s border, but they were still at least in Seabhac. It would be close enough; it would have to be.

  “There’s no sense in me slowing you all down,” she replied as he spread a salve around her wound. “We can’t be that far from the border. I’ll make my own way home.”

  Odran was silent while he finished his task, re-wrapping her injury, but she could tell from his downturned mouth and wrinkled brow that he didn’t approve of the idea.

  When he finished, he let out a long, low breath before leaning back, away from her. “I can’t tell you what to do, but… it may be in all of our best interests to stick together for now. I trust Niall when he says that he’ll help you get back home. He’s not his brother. He won’t force you to stay somewhere that you don’t want to be.”

  She couldn’t meet his gaze, barely able to nod. While there was no denying that Niall had changed in some ways, thus far, he’d given her no reason not to trust him. Odran got to his feet and after a while, Rhew came over and joined Ciara in front of the fire. There was something about sitting with the wolf that felt like a balm to her raw and aching heart.

  The others soon joined her, Niall taking a seat beside Ciara before they all shared a meal of dried meat and berries. Even though she didn’t have much of an appetite, Ciara made herself eat. She would need her strength over the next few days regardless of whether she went with Niall and the others or struck out on her own. Rhew chewed on her own assortment of dried meat while the four of them ate their meal, the wolf content to stay at Ciara’s side.

  “If I’m not careful, you may have stolen my wolf by the time we reach Clogwyn,” Niall said with a good-natured grin as they finished their meal.

  Ciara glanced over at him, unable to hold back her smile. It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him that she intended to strike out on her own, but he held her gaze and she found herself unable to utter the words. She had known the man next to her since he was a boy. She had trusted him before; she could find it in herself to do so again unless he proved she couldn’t. He was different, yes, but he wasn’t his brother.

  “I don’t know how much she would like Arth,” Ciara replied, stroking Rhew’s back. “Our winters in Priomh are a bit colder than yours.”

  “She might surprise you,” Niall said. “She loves the snow. Always has.”

  “I think I’m starting to see why your family reveres its wolves so much.” Ciara rubbed Rhew behind the ears, the wolf resting her head on her front paws. “There is something about her.”

  He nodded, his gaze on Rhew. “I can’t imagine not having the wolves. They’re a part of us. A part of our people.”

  “Do you still believe in it all?” she asked, not daring to look at him and instead choosin
g to focus on Rhew. “The Spirits and the old ways?”

  He didn’t respond immediately and she cast him a sidelong glance. He had rested his chin in his hands, his brow slightly furrowed as he stared into the flames.

  “For a time, I wondered,” he answered. “But now… now I’ve had experiences that make me think my father wasn’t so far from the truth with his staunch beliefs.”

  “I suppose there is Briallen of Ceffyl’s gifting and the stories of how she was chosen by the Horse Spirit itself. Though most say it’s an exaggeration or that even if it is true, she was the last.”

  He shifted, his expression growing uncomfortable. “Yes. There is that.”

  Silence fell between them, only broken by the soft crackle of the flames and Maura’s quiet conversation with Odran on the other side of the fire. Ciara found her thoughts drifting to Bleddyn, as they often had the past few days. She had sacrificed so much of who she was in a vain attempt to make him happy. She couldn’t help but feel that she had lost a part of herself along the way and she deeply feared never finding it again.

  “I suppose I’m nothing like the girl that you remember,” she softly said, her throat constricting.

  He looked over at her with a frown. “And what makes you say that?”

  “I can’t even imagine my aunt or my cousins ending up in the situation that I was in.” She tried to let out a laugh, but it came out choked and bitter.

  “Bleddyn has become a liar and manipulator. He’s always been difficult and prone to trouble, but after Enfys left him and Mother died, he grew far worse.” He paused, resting a hand on her knee and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You saved my life, for Spirits’ sake. I owe you that, and I won’t forget it.”

  “Thank you,” she mumbled, swallowing hard.

  After a few moments, Odran and Maura drew him into conversation and he dropped his hand. Though she felt the loss of his touch, Ciara was happy to simply sit and listen to the others. She had plenty of her own thoughts to contend with. As the talk around her continued, she looked up at the full moon above them, visible through breaks in the trees, and sent up a silent prayer to the Spirits that at least her aunt and uncle would welcome her home with open arms. She would find a way forward. Bleddyn might have convinced her to forget that she came from a long line of strong warrior women, but she swore to herself that she wouldn’t lose sight of that again.

  ∞∞∞

  Bleddyn was surprised when Fiadh expressed a desire to travel to the village of Glas with him, but he didn’t refuse her. With their blood bond, she could have remained at the castle, but for whatever reason, she felt the need to be present when he met with Regulus. He was mildly curious if her insistence had something to do with the raven she had sent with his cousin—the creature had yet to return to the castle—but she had been tight-lipped from the moment they had left Clogwyn.

  He had left Bronagh in charge of the castle in his absence, making sure his warrior chief was well aware that it would be his life on the line if he did not keep a handle on the pockets of unrest within the castle walls. The people of Blaidd were largely accepting of their new Ri, but Niall still had some sympathizers, especially among the castle’s inhabitants.

  Fiadh rode at Bleddyn’s side as they made their way through Glas’ village square. She had chosen to shroud herself in a heavy cloak and the few villagers who were out and about gawked at her as they rode by. Bleddyn couldn’t entirely blame them. She did cut a rather odd figure seated on her dark grey mare, hidden under layers of dark fabric and one of her ravens perched on her shoulder.

  Glas, like most of the villages in Blaidd, was much the same as it had always been: filled with farmers, herd owners, and tradespeople making a hard living off the rugged landscape. There were hints of change here and there, but nothing like the industry that Bleddyn had brought to Seabhac. There were some in Blaidd who still viewed the changes he’d wrought in Seabhac with skepticism, but he would soon change that. He had promised the people of Blaidd both wealth and security under his rule, things they’d never had under Niall.

  They brought their horses to a halt outside the village’s one tavern, The Twin Fish, according to the crudely carved and painted sign, and Bleddyn was forced to bring his focus back to the task at hand. He would never keep Blaidd if Niall still lived. After they dismounted, his warriors came to his side, two of them taking their horses while the others escorted him and Fiadh into the establishment. It was relatively quiet inside for midday and the tavern owner was quick to see them back to a private room.

  Bleddyn was pleased to find Regulus and two mercenaries waiting for them. Regulus’ brow was wrinkled and he had positioned himself as far away from Fiadh’s raven as possible. The strange creature was perched on the back of an empty chair and Bleddyn could feel the power that emanated from it. As soon as the door closed, Fiadh threw back the hood of her cloak and the bird flew to her. It landed on her empty shoulder and she proceeded to stroke its head.

  Bleddyn looked away from the odd interaction, focusing on Regulus. “I hope you’re here to tell me that Niall and Odran’s dead bodies are outside with the horses and you’ve hidden Ciara away somewhere for safekeeping.”

  “We did find them,” Regulus answered, pressing his lips together and folding his hands in front of him.

  “Then where are they?”

  Regulus’ shoulders tensed before he let out a long exhale. “They got away from my men, but—”

  “They got away?” Bleddyn’s nostrils flared and he clenched one hand into a fist. “Do you remember how much damn coin I paid you to ensure that you got the best men from the mainland? It’s my brother, for Spirits’ sake! Not some fierce warrior.”

  “I still have men looking for them. They won’t escape again,” Regulus said, his jaw clenched.

  “They had better not,” Bleddyn snapped. “You can thank your gods that you were born a prince or I would have a half a mind to throw you in the dungeons for your incompetence.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  Regulus bolted up out of the chair, taking a step toward Bleddyn. His posture was rigid and Bleddyn’s own muscles tightened in response.

  “Enough!” Fiadh’s tone was sharp and for a moment, the fire in the small hearth dimmed, Cigfran’s power swirling in the air.

  Regulus’ eyes widened at the display and he took a step back. Bleddyn was unable to hide his small smirk when Fiadh moved closer to him.

  “Valuable information was gathered,” she said, her gaze flitting between the two men as she narrowed her eyes. “I will send another raven with the Kelnorian prince to help track them.”

  “I don’t think that’s necessary,” Regulus said, his brow furrowed as he stared at the birds on Fiadh’s shoulder.

  She scowled and Bleddyn watched Regulus wince before swallowing hard. The room was silent as she used her gifting on him and after a few tense moments, he gave a stiff nod.

  “I’m glad we have an understanding,” Fiadh said, giving him a cold smile before inclining her head toward the door. “I need to speak with Ri Bleddyn. Alone.”

  Regulus mumbled an acknowledgement before calling his mercenaries to follow him as he left the room. The raven Fiadh had brought with her from Clogwyn went with them and though Bleddyn could tell that the bird made the group uncomfortable, no one dared to voice a complaint. When the door swung shut, Fiadh turned to Bleddyn, her lips pressed together into a thin line.

  “Cigfran has seen something unexpected,” she said.

  “Unexpected?” He raised a brow. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

  “When it saw your brother and your cousin, it saw that they are both linked to the Wolf Spirit.”

  The hair on the back of his neck raised. “Explain.”

  “There is a connection in the Spirit Realm between each of them and the Wolf Spirit. Such a connection would only exist if there were a blood oath or a gifting.”

  “And Cigfran is just seeing this now?”

  She
glared at him. “The Great Spirits like Blaidd are cunning. Do not think that they do not seek to block and hide things from Cigfran at every turn.”

  “So you’re trying to insinuate that Niall and Odran have completed some ritualistic ceremony to tie themselves to the Wolf Spirit?” he scoffed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “You have sworn that Briallen of Ceffyl is the last person on this island outside of yourself to receive a gifting, that Cigfran itself is the one who told you that.”

  “Be careful with mocking such ceremonies. Cigfran is not all-knowing. It suspects that what it has seen are giftings, not blood oaths.”

  He blinked rapidly, shaking his head. “How?”

  “The Spirits choose who they wish.” She scowled. “How is not what is important. It is up to the mortals to decide where their loyalties lie, and your kin have obviously chosen to place their power firmly in the Wolf Spirit’s grasp.”

  “If my brother and cousin had such power, I would know of it.”

  “Would you?” She raised her brows.

  He ran a hand over his face, cursing under his breath. He would have known, wouldn’t he?

  “Don’t let your pride make you a fool,” she said. “Such a thing would account for your brother’s odd behavior and the rumors surrounding your cousin.”

  “What rumors?” He let out a growl of frustration, his stomach tightening as he ground his teeth.

  She pursed her lips. “There were rumors years ago that Brynn of Blaidd’s eldest son carried a gifting. She put a swift end to it all, but not before the people of Bach began to speculate about her and her progeny.”

  “And how would you know all of this?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him, her lips pinched. “Because I was raised in Bach while you enjoyed the comforts of Castle Clogwyn.”

  He was tempted to dismiss her allegations, but neither Fiadh nor Cigfran had been wrong yet, and Spirits knew his brother had been acting oddly of late. The thought of weak men like Niall and Odran having such power made heat flush his body. They were undeserving, lazy, and unambitious. They wouldn’t know the first thing to do with it.