Forbidden Fate (Sisters of Danu Book 1)
Page 20
“Just in time, Ogan. And with the hag? Wherever did you find her?” Baine looked pleased with the turn of events, standing up straight and adjusting his trousers, taking a moment to tighten the strings again.
“Aye. I caught her several hours ago by the gates. She was trying to leave. I assume to track down Liam. She was on foot and not hard to stop. Liam was on horseback and an hour ahead. She had nay chance of catching up to him.” The man pushed Abigael further into the house and released his control of her neck as he pulled back his hood. With his long lime-bleached hair pulled back from his face in the same cue as before, the sentry who had been guarding the entrance to the hillfort smiled wickedly at Gwynneth. “How was the ale, goddess?” He gave her a wink and then looked at Liam. “I have to admit. I wasn’t sure if you would recognize me from my visits to Iverni.”
Chapter 20
Gwynneth’s stomach started churning, most likely from a combination of panic and the very ale Ogan was referring to. It struck her like a hammer over the head, her temples pounding in time with her pulse. He was refilling her drink all night while she was enthralled with the legend. He must have gone to find Baine once she was thoroughly inebriated.
“I did recognize you, only later than I should have. That’s why I came back.” Liam growled and shifted his body in front of Gwynneth’s. She wasn’t sure if it was to protect her from bodily harm or to protect her modesty, but she was thankful for both. His dagger was poised to strike in his hand as he watched Ogan walk closer to Baine.
With all her senses spinning out of control, Gwynneth could not process the entire situation. The flickering of the dying fire, the chill of the breeze slipping in through the open door, and the shouting of angry voices, were all adding to her queasiness. Her vision was still slightly blurred and she could taste the residue of Baine on her tongue. All she was able to comprehend through the ever-present pounding of her skull, was that Abigael went after Liam at some point in the night, and had been abducted by the very guard meant to protect the hillfort from invaders. That was why nobody could find Abigail during the festival. Baine must have been informed of her location from Ogan, as well as notified of Liam’s departure. Baine always did have connections, though she couldn’t figure out what a warrior from Coraindt could possibly gain by helping Baine accomplish all of his wicked deeds.
Liam came back. But, why? Before tonight, Gwynneth would never have questioned his need to return to her. Liam’s love had been a constant, steady, stream of reassurance within her life since she was but a lass. But tonight, before her bewildered eyes and ears, he expressed that he no longer loved her, that he had another woman.
Who was Fiona? Was she the raven haired beauty in her memory? Baine’s words from her memory came barreling back at her, like a slap to the face. “Liam does not love you, Gwynn. He was glad to be rid of you, to have a woman in his bed who is not as cold as a dead fish.” Was Baine speaking of Fiona? Had Liam been sharing his nights with the same woman as Baine? The thought of her husband and Liam both sharing a bed with this woman, while Gwynneth lay battered and abused, made her almost retch into her palm as she covered her mouth to the swallow her bile.
How long had Liam been involved with this other woman? Did he truly love her? Even as three men circled the room ready to battle, this question haunted her more than any other. Had she truly ruined her last chance at happiness with Liam? It never struck her that he may have another woman interested in marrying him, and that he could possibly return her affections.
How could she have been so naive? Of course Liam had other lovers. Tall, muscular and strong, he was also immensely handsome with his irresistible dimples, impeccable reputation amongst the tuath and a cunning wit to match. He was an accomplished warrior and now…he was king. How could she think he had been celibate all these years, all while being the most eligible man in the village? Her ignorance flip flopped in her belly and she sat back on the bed, her nausea increasing.
Aye, she was going to be sick. It came quick, with no more than a second’s warning, and Gwynneth released her stomach’s contents over the side of the bed, onto the floor. She retched and heaved as the ale left her body. The emotional torment, however, stayed stubbornly within her gut, a constant nag to remind her of all she had lost.
Liam looked over at her with concern, but did not move from his defensive position. Her cheeks flushed brightly in embarrassment as she wiped her mouth with the back of her arm. She was heaving in front of these men, all staring at her with faces ranging from concern to disgust, with nothing more than a than a fur pelt covering her. She wrapped the pelt tighter around her body, and braced as a strong shiver ran through her.
Ogan continued toward Baine, reaching into his cloak to swiftly pull out a knife. He tossed it to Baine and in one fluid motion, reached into his boot to retrieve another. Both men were now armed and circling Liam, like vultures ready to go in for the kill. Liam was all focus as he slowly unsheathed his sword and held it tightly with both hands, gripping the handle until his knuckles turned white. His muscles flexed and bunched as he crouched down, preparing for their onslaught.
Before either man could make a move, the entire house shook with the reverberation of the ground. Loud hoof beats were accompanied by the snorting of a horse. Shouts came from outside and a swirl of men entered the house through the broken door. Gwynneth stepped back into the shadowed corner of the bed, partly to hide her undressed state, and partly to avoid being trampled by a seeming stampede of bodies.
Three horses were outside thrashing their hooves against the ground in irritation. Their equally large riders entered the house swiftly, pulling out daggers at the sight of the other weapons gleaming in the dim firelight.
“In here!” One of the three men shouted and Duncan came running in, alongside King Garreth and four more warriors carrying spears and large shields.
Baine and Ogan froze in their movements, daggers still in the air, their bodies poised to attack. Their eyes shifted from Liam to the sudden appearance of nine armed and very large men. Lowering their weapons slowly, they started to walk backward away from Liam. Baine’s calves bumped into the edge of the table, causing him to let out a startled yelp and spin around.
Realizing it had only been the table, Baine changed direction and continued his retreat with Ogan by his side, neither man having a route for escape. The four warriors were the first to step forward and surround Baine and Ogan, creating a cage around the two men as they were pinned against the wall by a row of shields. Baine put his hands up in a gesture of surrender and dropped the dagger with a clank onto the floor. “Surely I’m guilty of nothing,” Baine said with arrogance. “If a man coming to retrieve his own wife is a crime, then I am guilty of that, and nothing more.”
He looked over at Ogan, who still had his dagger drawn and pointed at his fellow warriors. “I never laid a hand on Liam and I never touched Abigael. As you can see, I am completely innocent of all wrong doing here. Allow me to retrieve my wife and take her home. She has lingered here long enough.” He sent an icy gaze in Liam’s direction. “I have not committed a single crime, nor have I injured a single soul. Ogan, on the other hand…”
“She isn’t your wife anymore. I know this to be true.” Abigail had her hands folded tightly across her chest as she stood next to King Garreth. She was dwarfed in size next to him, but her presence was powerful as she commanded the room. She stepped forward and straightened up her spine. “King Doran declared your marriage dissolved. He made sure to have a witness, but he hid me behind a curtain. He knew you would attempt to hurt me one day if ever you knew I was there.”
“Lies! All lies! Who would take your word over mine, you shrew?” Baine’s voice croaked as defeat became apparent. He had believed the truth of his dissolved marriage died along with King Doran. Abigael’s declaration threatened all of his well-laid plans to claim back Gwynneth. Without her as his wife, how would he convince the tribal assembly that it was his destiny to become the King of Iverni?
Nay! Liam would not walk away with his title and his wife!
“Do you dare to speak of my wife’s mother in such a foul manner, in her own home?” Garreth’s voice was level and low, yet it held a chilling threat that nary a man alive would dare to overlook. Baine’s mouth opened, as if to retort. Apparently thinking the better of it, he clamped his mouth shut and narrowed his eyes at Liam, channeling his anger at his true enemy.
“Ogan. I am so very disappointed in you, lad.” Garreth’s smirk belied his sarcastic tone. “Whatever did you stand to gain by this treasonous plot? What comforts could Baine possibly offer you that I haven’t already provided in abundance?”
Ogan’s chest distinctly increased in size as he filled his lungs with air and held it, without a word. His dagger was at his side now and he was no longer in a defensive stance. He had been caught and nothing more could be done.
Letting the long breath of air slowly escape through his nose, his body sagged in resignation and obvious shame. “Baine promised me a higher rank within his own tuath if I helped him dispose of their new king and gain his wife back.” He lowered his eyes, feeling thoroughly guilty of betraying his own king, who had treated him well all these years, just for the gains of a man so readily willing to turn him over.
“Shocking,” Liam murmured dryly, still blocking Gwynneth’s body as she lay speechless on the bed.
“Gwynneth has nay say in this?” Baine suggested as he scrolled the room, making eye contact with her. “The woman is ill and retching because she carries my unborn child. Should she not have a say, before you rip her family apart?”
All eyes seemed to fly open at once as they landed on Gwynneth. Was it the announcement of the babe that no longer resided within her womb? Or was it shock at how completely delusional Baine was? As if everyone was waiting for her to answer, several mouths twitched in irritation as she stared blankly around the room. She tried to make contact with Liam’s eyes, but he shifted his gaze the moment she looked at him. Feeling stung by Liam’s visual dismissal, and at Baine’s disillusioned reality, she wondered how it came to be that the husband who tried to rid himself of her, was now begging to have her back. Yet, the man who fought desperately to have her for years was now ignoring her as if he never loved her at all.
Sadness was too good of an emotion for either man. Blind rage and distain felt much more appropriate. She started to laugh uncontrollably as she saw Baine helpless, pinned against the wall, awaiting her pardon in vain with his pitiful hazel eyes. She looked over to Liam and saw him with his back to her and her laugh became a cackle, one that even surprised herself.
“Family? Och, Baine. We are nay family. You tried to kill me! And for what? Because you were not made king? Because you were forced to marry me? I was forced to marry you, you, abusive bastard! If love was strengthened by the amount of bloodshed a man caused his wife, then I suppose I would love you dearly!” She let out an unladylike chortle and Liam’s whole body tensed listening to Gwynneth laugh at her years of abuse at the hands of Baine.
“Nay, Baine. I do not wish to be your wife. And you need not worry about our child. The gods took him from me…” the words came out more like a choke and tears began to slide down her cheeks as she relived the pain of her loss. “I wanted our babe, Baine. But nay, I do not want you.”
“You are not a goddess, Gwynn! You are a witch, truly, nothing more than a barren witch.” Baine spat at her from across the room and she flinched at the cruelty of his words.
“Enough Baine, that’s quite enough. You’ve heard the lady’s will.” Without moving his feet, Liam twisted his head over his shoulder to look at Gwynneth from his peripherals. He cast her a small shadow of a smile, perhaps to give her strength, or reassurance, but all it did was remind Gwynneth that she had lost Liam as well, and she turned away from him, crossing her arms tight across herself and dipped her head down in avoidance.
Having heard enough, King Garreth nodded to his warriors as Ogan and Baine were still backed against the wall. His silent command was recognized and the warriors sprung into action. One man grabbed Baine and another grabbed Ogan. Of the last two, one took the front, and the other stayed in back as they escorted them out.
“Put them both in the hold for now, Declan.”
“Aye, my king,” responded the largest of the four warriors. Gwynneth watched as Baine was taken away, wondering if that was the last time she would ever have to see him again. He tried to kill Liam. She would kill Baine, herself, if he ever came near her again. She made this secret oath to herself as he left her line of vision and disappeared through the door.
“Where’s Ceara?” Gwynneth asked in a timid voice. “Is she safe?”
“Aye. I kept her guarded back at the house. She is alright.” Garreth tilted his head and sent her a sad smile, his sympathy written across his face. The impact of recent events finally caught up to Gwynneth as all of her remaining energy left her body. She began to shake and sob into her hands. She was tired of crying all the time, but there was nothing left in her life to prevent the tears from falling. Because of her birthright, this cursed legend, she had suffered years of pain and abuse all while losing the only man she ever loved.
Liam strode over to the floor where her yellow dress lay safely, if not a bit wrinkled, and picked it up. Handing it to her with a concerned face, she shook her head at it and continued her sobs.
Many men still stood silently near the door, as they had during the entire scene, in case they were needed. Gwynneth looked up to see Duncan’s pitiful face staring at her with a frown deeply set onto his bearded face. Standing next to him were three incredibly large men, all barring strong familial features, keeping their eyes focused on anything else in the room, avoiding contact with Gwynneth’s immodest appearance.
Liam was befuddled by Gwynneth’s reaction to clothing and just as he was about to say something, most likely ungracious if the widening of his eyes and the puckering of his forehead were an indication, Abigael stepped forward quickly and grabbed his arm. She shook her head slowly, silently warning him to be gentle and not upset Gwynneth any more than she already was. Abigael understood the instincts of a woman. That yellow dress was meant to be worn for their wedding. To wear it now, as her relationship with Liam was in a state of distress, would be added fuel to her already highly enflamed emotions.
Deciding to heed Abigail’s warning, Liam put the dress back on the bed. He raised his brows at Duncan and gave him a sideways motion of the head, indicating that they should exit the house, now.
Duncan cleared his throat, “We need to prepare for our journey home, lads. Let us set about collecting rations and supplies. We shall leave at dawn…which is, well, now.” He gave a sideways glance at Gwynneth to make sure she was still breathing after her ordeal, and then exited the house, the brothers following behind him.
Liam was desperately wishing for Abigael to follow them out. He needed time alone with Gwynneth to try and repair the damage. He had said some hurtful things that he did not mean and he knew his cold treatment of her had destroyed her spirit. Had she understood why he acted as he did? Or did she truly believe he no longer loved her? His guts twisted at the possibility.
Abigail sent him a knowing look, as if reading his mind and leaned forward to give Gwynn a gentle kiss on the forehead. Gwynn reached up and grabbed both of Abigael’s hands with extreme tenderness. “I’m so glad you are alright, Abigael. We were all so worried when you were missing.”
A proud grin spread across Abigael’s lips and she gave Gwynneth a wink. “Ogan may not be very intelligent, but he knows better than to harm a single hair on the head of the king’s mother by marriage.” She playfully pushed her stray hairs back in place into her loose bun with a confident shrug of the shoulders. That made a hesitant smile flash across Gwynneth’s face before her smile fell away once more.
“Liam.” He was in some sort of a daze, staring unblinkingly at Gwynneth, but the sound of his name brought him back into the moment and he snapped his head
quickly in Abigael’s direction. “I did go to find you, after you left. I had a bad sense that danger was close, and an even stronger sense that it was Baine. What I couldn’t sense was the betrayal of Ogan who tied me up for a few hours. Baine has more men, Liam. The danger is not over. Ogan informed the others as soon as you left and they informed Baine that Gwynneth was alone. Ogan then stayed behind to disorient her with ale, making it easier for Baine to subdue her.”
Liam grimaced as guilt spread through him for ever having left Gwynneth. He knew what Baine was capable of, but he had underestimated the length at which the man would go to accomplish his goals. He stared at Gwynneth again. Her tiny frame still quivered beneath the fur pelt clutched to her front. The dried blood on her neck was a constant reminder of just how dangerous Baine could be. She looked like a wounded animal and his hatred for Baine became a vice around his heart. He would not rest until Baine paid for his torment of the woman he loved.
“You could not have known, Liam. This wasn’t your fault. I’m only glad you made it back before it was too late.” Abigael gave his arm a reassuring squeeze. “It was Ogan that informed Baine when you arrived with Patrick to Coraindt, as well. Baine truly thought his men had killed you and was on his way back to Iverni, until he got the news.”
“I came back when I found my mates in the woods. They said Baine never returned to Iverni. That’s when I knew he was still lurking about.” He scratched his head, recalling the fast-paced events of the night. “It was already dark and well into the night. But I remembered also where I had seen Ogan, in the gathering hall with Baine. We came straight here as fast as our horses could ride.” His voice stopped short and he looked ashamed at Gwynneth, who was silently listening to him talk while chewing on her bottom lip, intentionally avoiding eye contact.
“It all worked out, for now. Remember, tis not safe yet. Get yourself back to Iverni in one piece.” She nodded at him and shifted her gaze toward Gwynneth’s contemplative face. “Gwynneth, you have a home here, should you choose to stay. The choice is yours.” With that, Abigael nodded and walked out of the house, shutting the splintered wooden door as much as she could. It swung with a creak in the wind as Abigael strode away.