by Kristen Cobb
“My name is Will and the boy’s name is Donal.” Will appeared ever so slightly offended at being referred to as the mortal.
Something odd suddenly caught her notice. Will did not seem to be ogling Glenna’s naked body at all. If it were Rory his eyes would be openly roaming in not so subtle appreciation of the view. Will always claimed to be constantly bedding one woman or another yet he showed no interest at all in a fairly attractive woman sauntering about completely naked.
“What is a mortal?” Donal did not seem shocked in any way at Glenna’s state of undress, apparently already becoming accustomed to the process after watching her change form multiple times today. There was also no telling what the child witnessed living in a one room house with his parents.
Nessa glanced down at Glenna’s feet noticing they were bare. How odd that none of them wore shoes. “A mortal is someone that will die.” When Donal’s mouth started to open she cut him off. “If you have any more questions we will answer them later.” Nessa focused all of her thoughts on turning into a horse.
Conri glanced around as Nessa changed form. How had the situation spiraled so out of control? He was returning to the castle with Will, Donal, and two extra shifters. It would be quite the feat to convince Rory that Will should be allowed to remain at the castle. Now he also had his mother and Glenna. He doubted they’d ever spent any time around mortals. His grandfather kept the shifters fairly isolated. How would he ever manage to keep three shifters a secret? He wanted Nessa to spend some time with the shifters but not at the castle. A small part of him was thrilled that his mother and Glenna were coming with them. There seemed to be no sign of his grandfather at the moment. He turned into a golden eagle and flew away shortly after Nessa released him.
Conri laid the bags of food over Nessa’s back then mounted, sitting on the front strap connecting them so they wouldn’t slide off from the jostling. He reached down a hand to help his mother up. Mounting awkwardly behind him Conri gave her a moment to adjust her dress so it adequately covered the most essential areas. He had no intention of allowing her to sit across his lap. She would have to make due riding astride in a dress. As soon as his mother was settled, her arms wrapped around him, Conri patted Nessa’s neck. Nessa threw her head back and snorted. Conri gently pressed his knees against her side. She set off at a trot, unable to go any faster until they reached open ground.
The sun would be setting soon, taking with it the last of the daylight, and she had not said so much as a word to her son yet. Unlike his father Conri had an unapproachable, angry demeanor. Kaelan. Memories of him came flooding back. Moments she pushed deep into her mind for so many years. Not because they were unpleasant, quite the opposite.
Etain had so many questions for her son. The one niggling ceaselessly at the corners of her mind concerned Kaelan. How was he? When Conri and Nessa stood up to leave she could hold back no longer. “How is your father?”
Conri turned to face her, a look of anger momentarily crossing his face. “How would I know? You never so much as told me his name.”
“Your grandfather sent you to live with him. All you needed to do was follow the river.” Where had Conri gone if not with his father? Could it even be possible that Kaelan did not realize Conri was his son? Etain discarded the idea immediately. Conri looked far too much like his father for anyone to miss the resemblance. Kaelan would have figured it out almost immediately.
“Grandfather sent me in the opposite direction. He warned me not to follow the river, said I would be in great danger.” Conri grabbed Nessa’s hand and began walking away, pulling her along behind him.
Conri’s words momentarily stunned her. Etain watched her son walking away with the woman he loved, the depth of her father’s betrayal devastating. No more. It was long past time she took a stand. “Where did you go?”
Conri stopped but did not turn around. “Why would you care?”
“I thought you were with your father.” It was not much of an excuse and she knew it.
Conri whirled around to face her, releasing Nessa’s hand. “Then maybe you should have brought me to him. Would that have been so much to ask? Instead I was sent out on my own, a child. How can you sit there and pretend that you ever cared about me. You did nothing to help me.”
The resentment in her son’s voice, although painful, was well deserved. She had been a coward, afraid to take a chance or stand up to her father, even for her own son. “I would like to tell you about him now, if you are willing to listen.”
Conri did not walk away or release another scathing retort in her direction. He simply stood there staring at her. Gone was the momentary display of anger, in its place a cold unreadable expression.
Nessa lowered herself back to the ground, rejoining the group. She looked up at Conri as if to say whether you sit down or not I want to hear about your father. Her son chose well. He obviously needed a woman who could hold her own with him. Nessa did not seem to fear him at all.
When Conri continued to stand Nessa patted the ground next to her. “We came to Knocknashee for information. I know you want to hear about him. Why not sit down and listen with me.”
“I want to hear about him.” Donal leaned forward on his knees, preparing to be enthralled. “Is he a great warrior like Conri?”
Etain smiled at the boy. “Kaelan was…”
Conri finally sat down next to Nessa. “He is dead? Was he mortal?” Her son’s tone of voice remained neutral and even but his eyes betrayed intense emotion and curiosity.
“Your father may very well be alive for all I know. I have not seen him in a very long time, since before you were born.” Conri deserved to know about his father. He also deserved an explanation for her actions or lack thereof. Unfortunately there was no way to portray herself as anything but the villain in this particular tale. She could not blame everything on her father. At some point we each have to take responsibility for our choices. Her moment had obviously come. “Your father is an outcast. He has our extended life span but not the ability to change form.”
“Extended life span? We are not immortal?” Nessa appeared genuinely confused.
“No, we age at a much slower rate than mortals, so slow that we seem immortal to them, hence the term. Although as one of the ancients I believe you are actually immortal. They were the only true immortals. How long have you been alive?” She must be very young given her seeming lack of information. Her son was undoubtedly very little help in that area since she never really explained this to him. Glancing at her son Etain suddenly realized how lacking she had been as a mother.
Nessa shrugged nonchalantly. “About thirty years.”
“I never believed the stories about the ancients.” Glenna’s voice held more than a hint of awe. “I always thought they were just fanciful stories the elders told to try and explain our existence.”
Etain fully understood her son’s search for answers given Nessa’s unbelievable abilities. “I do not really have any more information about the ancients other than the stories I was told as a child, most of which I imparted to Conri.”
Actually the stories her father relayed portrayed the ancients as horrid, violent, manipulative creatures. Conri knew nothing of her father’s dark tales of the ancients. Her father avoided him completely as a child, to the point that he refused to even look at her son. She was grateful for that unforgivable slight now. Conri only knew the much lighter, fanciful tales she told him of the ancients. Hearing her father’s dark tales might have prevented his relationship with Nessa. Her first reaction had been horror upon learning her son fell in love with one of the ancients but it was clear to even a casual observer that Nessa adored him.
Nessa moved a bit closer to Conri so their legs were actually touching. “I am more interested in Conri’s father right now. Why did you allow Conri to be cast out rather than bringing him to his father? Does he even know Conri exists?” Nessa’s gaze while direct held no accusation.
How quickly they reached the point at
which the truth became intensely painful to admit. Rallying what little bravery she possessed Etain vowed to be honest with her son. “No, Kaelan has no idea that I bore him a son. I never even told him I became pregnant. I considered bringing Conri to Kaelan myself but I was afraid.”
“You were afraid of my father?” Conri leaned forward a bit, fire suddenly blazing in his eyes.
Etain answered without hesitation. “No. Never. Kaelan is the kindest man I have ever known. Your father built an enormous stone structure at the other end of the Moy River so the outcast children would have a place to go. He has lived his life in service to others.”
“Then what were you afraid of?” Nessa’s eyes narrowed in concentration, likely attempting to compile a list of possible answers to that perplexing question.
What might seem like an easy decision to them had not been so simple and straightforward for her. “Leaving the only life I had ever known. I would have been shunned at Knocknashee were I to openly consort with an outcast. Kaelan asked me to stay with him. I refused and ran away, back to Knocknashee. I never even bothered to inform him about my pregnancy. How could I return years later and face him after all that?”
One look at her son reinforced what she already knew, the hurt he was desperately trying to hide a fitting judgment. Deep down she always knew casting out the children was at best neglectful, at worst downright hateful, yet she went along with it, even allowed her own son to be thrown away as if he mattered not at all. Kaelan would never forgive her for that, nor should he. All she could do now was attempt to make amends by showing her son how much she actually did love him. Leaving Knocknashee and coming with him had been the first step, being honest the second. “I will go back to Knocknashee in the morning if you never want to see me again. You have every right to hate me.”
The very last of the daylight seemed to be slipping away much too quickly as Etain watched her son’s reaction. Actually reaction might be too strong a word. She never before encountered a person such as her son. His cold emotionless gaze revealed nothing. Frankly it was a bit unnerving. Conri said not a word. When he looked away Etain laid down on the ground, burying her face in her arms. An image of Kaelan standing on the balcony above the crashing waves of the sea, waiting for her, immediately started a flow of tears that she feared might never stop. What had she done?
She lay there silently crying for what seemed a near eternity. Sleep would likely prove elusive tonight. Her mind kept going over the events of her life as if something might change if she merely thought about it one more time. A hand on her shoulder startled her into a sitting position. It was the mortal, Will. Etain looked around. Nessa and Conri were gone. Glenna and Donal appeared to be sleeping soundly.
“They left to find some privacy. Those two are going to give you lots of grandchildren.” Will’s smile seemed forced, obviously aware that she had been crying. The pity in his eyes conveyed that well enough.
Pulling her knees up against her chest Etain tucked her bare feet beneath the hem of her dress. “Grandchildren I will never get to meet.”
“Your son is far more forgiving than his tough outer shell would suggest. It pains me a great deal to say this but he is actually a good man.” Will’s face was just barely visible in the moonlight. He did not sound at all happy about the compliment he just paid her son.
His words relieved her worried mind enough that she managed a small smile. “How long have you known my son?”
“Not long, a matter of days really.” Will began picking at some of the grass, tearing off the tips.
Her relief disappeared in an instant, replaced by a sinking despair. “Then you cannot possibly…”
“It is not how long I have known your son but what has happened since I met him.” Will sighed deeply, staring at her in the moonlight for a moment as if debating whether to tell her more. “I might have, sort of, tried to kill him.”
“You tried to kill my son? Why would he allow you to travel with him?” There did not seem to be any real animosity between the two of them. If Will only knew her son for a matter of days then the incident must have happened recently.
“Condensing a much longer story, I wanted Nessa to marry me. When I found out she agreed to marry your son I did not handle it very well. Conri forgave me and has promised to speak with Rory about allowing me to remain at the castle. He is a better man than I would be if the situation were reversed.” Will was staring at the ground, pulling up clumps of grass.
Etain laid her hand over Will’s, stopping his nervous destruction of the grass. “Thank you for telling me that. It actually does help.”
Will smiled. “You should try to get some sleep. We will likely be leaving early in the morning.” Will stood up, walking back over to Donal.
Etain rested her head on her knees as she looked out at the river. Moonlight bounced off the water casting silver shadows of light into the darkness. The tiniest glimmer of hope began to form somewhere deep inside of her. Perhaps it was not too late to make things right.
9
Nessa stood at the edge of the training field watching Conri and Will attempt to teach Eion how to fight with a sword, again. The only bright spot in this dismal and seemingly useless pursuit being that Conri and Will were working together. Will was actually quite competent with a sword. Everyone on a ship needed to know how to defend themselves and the ship’s cargo in case of an attack. Rory deferred to Conri on the subject of Will remaining within the castle walls. Conri seemed to have an exorbitant amount of influence with their king.
Will finally told everyone the truth. Her wedding was set to take place in two days, on Samhain. Rory agreed to let the ceremony take place even though they had yet to receive a message from Laurence. A woman belonged to her father until she married. She had no legal rights to make her own decisions, including marriage, without his consent. Rory publicly appointed himself her guardian, giving them permission to marry. There were no barriers to their union now, save one, the reason she came to Connaught in the first place. Although she had no intention of following through with the plot to assassinate Rory she still needed to tell Conri the truth. He deserved at least that.
There was no one else on the training field except Will, Conri, Eion, Donal, and Conor. Will and Conri were executing some basic moves while Eion and Donal watched. Eion was clearly insulted to be training with a boy Donal’s age. The sad truth being that Donal showed much more promise as a warrior than Eion. Watching Conri move with a sword in his hand filled her with a sense of pride. Will was barely able to hang onto his sword at times due to the strength of Conri’s blows.
Nessa could not bear to take her eyes off Conri. What if these were the last days she ever spent with him? Once she revealed the truth he might never forgive her. She came here to murder his only real friend, the fact that she aborted the plan only mildly relevant. She had been lying to him and using him for a large portion of their time together. Dermot’s plan to attack the castle gave her no choice but to divulge the true motive for her presence here. She could not allow them to be caught unprepared if Dermot decided to attack even though word from her had not arrived. Conri was intelligent enough to put the pieces together. He would realize immediately she suggested their fake relationship to get back inside the castle walls, close to Rory.
She was counting on Conri’s ability to forgive. The haughty distant warrior had proven himself to be far more compassionate than most would give him credit for. Will and Etain were a living testament to that. Conri’s mother and Glenna had settled in nicely at the castle. They were supposed to be meeting her out here this morning.
Marta needed her for one last session to finish the dress. Rory provided the material, choosing it himself out of his private stash. He chose white, saying her eyes needed no competition. Marta was attempting to design the dress to her specifications, copying a style she saw in England while traveling with Dermot, quite impractical but exceptionally beautiful.
Rather than the loose sac-like garments
most Irish women wore the top of the dress would fit snug against her body. From the waist down it would flow a bit more freely. The top of the sleeves would end at the wrist while the bottom of the sleeve would hang down to her knees, the point at which the design became highly impractical. She could not wait to see the finished garment. Marta’s eyes lit up with excitement when she described the design.
Noticing Glenna and Etain walking toward her Nessa stood up and headed over to Conri, looking into his eyes the entire way. He was smiling by the time she reached him. Nessa laid a hand on either side of his waist, committing to memory the feel of his muscular torso beneath her fingers. She would tell him tonight. The truth could wait no longer. Sadness at the prospect of losing him threatened to engulf her. Attempting to hide it proved impossible. She knew it showed on her face.
Conri’s expression quickly turned to concern. “What is wrong? If you do not want to wear the dress…”
“It is not that. I need to speak with you and Rory when I return, in private. It is important.” Her stomach twisted into knots as she considered the task that lay ahead. Going to Marta’s would only be a short reprieve.
Conri’s brow furrowed in a combination of concern and confusion. “Tell me now.”
She shook her head. “I would rather tell you together. What I have to say concerns Rory as well.” Wrapping her arms around his waist she buried her head against his chest, fighting back tears. “I love you.” Tears welled in her eyes as she pulled away, turning to leave without making eye contact again.
Thankfully she managed to hold back the stream of tears and get herself somewhat under control by the time she reached Glenna and Etain. Apparently her efforts were somewhat lacking. Their expressions clearly proclaimed they knew something was wrong.
