10 Timeless Heroes; A Time Travel Romance Boxed Set
Page 22
Kellach’s lips quirked. “I do not plan nor want to take another wife, I have barely gotten used to the one I have. My family does not encourage that practice. I do not either.”
Relief flooded through her, one less thing to worry about. This marriage thing was pretty confusing at times. Doubly so here and she was new to the rules.
“Just be sure you remember that when I am old and gray and my breasts are sagging to my knees.”
Kellach laughed outright. “You paint a pretty picture, one worth holding onto.”
The absurdity of the conversation caused Fiona to giggle helplessly, but she was glad that she had finally asked.
Thirty-Three
The storms of winter blew and the people sheltered themselves inside. The marketplace was mostly barren this time of year, only the potters and jewelers still kept shop. Flocks of sheep and herds of cattle were moved in closer to the settlement and Kellach left each day to help with feeding and caring for the animals. His duties as commander of the soldiers eased, seldom if ever did the northern tribes raid during the colder months, although the patrols kept constant watch. Meetings in the Council chambers were uncontrolled, sides were taken and nothing was ever resolved as a consequence.
Tanith healed and the baby, Berlach, thrived after the difficult beginning. Soon enough, he was a fat baby boy full of smiles and watery kisses, doted on by his parents and Machar.
Fiona’s own pregnancy was going well, the morning sickness and constant fatigue behind her. She was in the good stage of pregnancy, feeling the first movements and watching her belly grow.
She rocked, humming a tune as she rubbed her belly. “What do you think the baby will be? Boy or girl?
Kellach leaned down, pressing his ear against the growing bulge. “He says he’s a boy.”
Playfully, she slapped at his head. “He didn’t say that! It’s just wishful thinking on your part.”
He tweaked her nipple, desire warming his golden eyes. “My wishful thinking lies in other directions. He doesn’t have to be a boy.”
“He doesn’t have to be a boy!” She hugged her stomach. “He or she will be loved no matter what.”
“I agree. But he says he’s a boy.”
She threw a pillow at him, laughing at his silliness. “For your sake, I hope it is a boy.”
“For our sake, I just want the birth to be an easy one.”
She warmed at his words. Love swelled in her breast. Kellach was attentive and loving, and her life, though different than anything she could ever have imagined, was full and satisfying. It was a time of peace and contentment.
January and February, or what she calculated as January and February, passed and the first signs of spring appeared. The settlement had been lucky that winter, no major illnesses had struck and, except for the deaths of some senior members due to advanced age, no other deaths were reported. Birds returned, and small early wildflowers poked through on the hillsides. Lambs began to appear and it was calving time in the herds. Life was renewing itself. The return of the great caravans was awaited with great anticipation and those caravans that had wintered near the settlement readied themselves to move on.
Spring also brought the return of huge yellow clouds of sand and dust, and winds of gale force, whipping across the desert, lasting for days on end and layering everything in dust. The settlement huddled indoors, waiting for the storms to break. Fiona’s stomach grew steadily, the baby kicking strongly and always, it seemed, just as she was about to go to sleep. She found herself following Kellach around whenever he was at home, her desire increasing as the influx of hormones kept her lusting after him. He was quick to oblige, always ready and willing, never put off by her increased girth.
Grinning, he finally asked. “Don’t you ever get tired?”
Laughing she replied. “Not for some things.”
Conan grew to full size, a sturdy medium-sized dog, smart and very protective. He seldom left her side and if he did, it was to run with Machar, his constant playmate. But for low rumblings of discontent in the marketplace, Fiona was happy.
Thirty-Four
Rumors reached them that Voadicia was teetering on the brink of insanity. Her viciousness had increased tenfold and her cruelties were without bounds. Alstrom continued to turn a blind eye to her intrigues and woe be to the unfortunates who defied her. A public execution, spawned by her machinations and carried out by her underlings, took place in the market square. The victim, a woman, was adjudged a witch by Voadicia’s tainted court, but it was whispered that her only crime was publicly denouncing Voadicia. She was lashed to two horses and then torn apart when the horses were made to bolt. Kellach arrived too late to stop the proceedings, vowing that it would not happen again.
Thankfully, Fiona had been spared witnessing the event, and only learned of it because Cyrnon happened to be in the marketplace. Alstrom had become a weakling against Voadicia’s growing power and more than one Council member voiced the need to remove him from leadership. Kellach secretly agreed, but held his counsel, waiting to see how the winds blew. If it came to that, Kellach would have no trouble disposing of Voadicia by whatever means necessary.
Kellach resumed training the men, working hard to return them to pre-winter conditioning, formulating new methods of early detection for the expected raids. The marauders would be hard-pressed to gain entrance if they dared to attack the settlement. A constant vigil was kept, and guards posted around the settlement on a twenty-four hour basis. There would be no surprises Kellach vowed. It was said that the nomads were already pushing south and some of the northernmost settlements had by now been attacked.
The raiders struck close to home early that spring. The yellow village was attacked and a rider was dispatched to the settlement for help in driving them back. Kellach rushed home to make ready, gathering his weapons and throwing on his armor, Siran close behind. The soldiers were mustered and riding out in the time it took to sound the war horns.
“I fear for their return.” Tanith grasped Fiona’s hand. “How many will perish this day?”
“We can’t think that way! I wonder what the word is in the marketplace?”
They made their way down to the marketplace, hoping for more information and met other women seeking the same.
Engai and Ceara ran to them. “Elochad and the twins have gone out with the soldiers.” Elochad wrung her hands. “What if I lost them, what would Ceara and I do?”
“They’ll all be fine. Kellach will see to that!” She whispered a silent prayer that what she said would hold true.
The small crowd of women grouped together, talking excitedly and milling about. What soldiers remained were mostly those that attended Voadicia, although Durlach and a few of Kellach’s most trusted remained as well.
Hours passed and most of the women left to return home. Tanith walked ahead, carrying Berlach, while Fiona followed, holding Machar’s hand and leading Conan. Engai and Ceara lagged behind. The war horns sounded again and fighting was heard coming from the direction of the river. Fiona and Tanith paused in alarm, they were too far from home to seek protection there and only a few places along the avenue where they walked afforded any possible cover. Screams sounded and a raider rushed headlong down the roadway, slashing with a wicked blade and trampling under hoof any who were too slow to jump out of the way.
Behind him, more horsemen followed his lead. People fell right and left under the onslaught of their razor sharp weapons. Tanith shoved Fiona and Machar down behind some tall clay pots, shielding them with her body. Conan was jumping and barking wildly as Machar held him tightly, fearful that he would get away. The baby was screaming and Tanith worked to calm him, frightened that he would draw too much attention to their hiding spot. More and more raiders flashed by, the noise deafening.
Across the way, a lone marksman crouched in the street, firing arrow after arrow with deadly accuracy. Hitting his mark, a raider crashed down in front of them, his neck broken by the fall. As if in slow motion, Fiona
watched in disbelief as Ceara broke from cover, screaming as she ran down the street, only to be caught up and tossed over the front of a fleeing raider’s horse.
“No!” screamed Engai, jumping up and running out as well. “Nooooooo!”
She ran after them, crying and pleading, her focus on the fast disappearing form of Ceara and not seeing the second raider bearing down on her. With one mighty stroke, Engai went down, felled by the slashing blade of a second marauder. Stunned, Fiona half-rose to go to her but was jerked back down by Tanith, tears streaming down her face. Tanith handed the baby to her and reached for the war ax dropped by the dead horseman. Fiona screamed, trying to stop her but Tanith would not be denied.
Crouching, she waited for the next horseman and as he neared, she leaped up, swinging the ax and catching him a glancing blow to the side. He toppled from his horse and rolled, landing in front of Fiona. His eyes gleamed cruelly, his blackened and broken teeth bared in a snarl of hate. Without thinking, Fiona shoved the baby at Machar and grabbed the nearest thing she could find as a weapon, a heavy grinding stone, and smashed it again and again into his face, until all that was left was a pulpy mass of flesh.
More war horns sounded as soldiers poured into the street, galloping down the street and forcing the raiders ahead of them, Kellach in the lead. Fiona froze, her eyes glued to the dead man, sickness welling up, vomit in her throat. She had done the unthinkable! She had killed a man with her bare hands. Tanith still gripped the war ax, standing in shock as the last of the raiders vanished from sight. Siran rushed to her and cautiously forced the ax from her clenched hands, crooning softly to her. Machar cradled the screaming Berlach, safeguarding him from any harm, his eyes having seen too much for a child his age.
Machar yelled in warning. Unthinkingly, Machar had let go of Conan and the dog was racing after the raiders, barking furiously. A shrill whistle from Kellach stopped him in his tracks and he slunk back, obeying but watchful of the raiders’ return.
Elochad and the twins broke through the assembly, throwing themselves from their horses, and running towards Engai’s broken body. Great sobs wracked Elochad as he gathered her to his chest, the twins wept in mute despair. Dear loving Engai—too soon dead, and in all probability, sweet little Ceara was gone forever, lost to the tents of the northern nomads.
Kellach folded Fiona in his arms. The ride back had been a nightmare. A small force had attacked the yellow village, whilst a larger contingent had bided their time, waiting until the majority of the soldiers had left the settlement. Then they’d attacked, pillaging and murdering, leaving behind many dead.
When Kellach’s forces realized that the attack on the yellow settlement was a ruse, they’d returned in all haste, arriving as the battle ensued. Durlach had led the defenders and they had held their own, given the size of the attacking force.
Fiona was shaking, her lips clenched in an effort to still the chattering of her teeth, her face buried in his chest. He held her thus, whispering words of comfort and reassurance.
****
Losing Engai and Ceara was a crushing blow and Elochad and the twin’s grief was overwhelming.
Kellach motioned to Durlach. “Gather a company of men. Take supplies for a week and follow their trail. Perhaps we can stop them before they reach the higher plateaus.”
Durlach nodded and hastened to make preparations for leaving. Elochad stood up, squaring his shoulders and advanced on Kellach. “I go with them. Engai would expect that of me. We might be able to save Ceara if we leave immediately. I cannot bear the thought of her loss as well.” He looked to Fiona. “Will you see to Engai’s body?”
Fiona nodded, tears spilling over anew. He whirled, motioned for the twins to stay put, and leapt on his horse, hurtling after the swiftly departing band.
Kellach and his officers hurried to organize the remaining men, making sure there would be no new surprises. Additional guards were set around the settlement and increased patrols scouted the outlying areas. The raid had been swiftly accomplished. The intruders vanished into the hills as quickly as they had appeared.
Wails and sobs came from every corner, hurt and bleeding citizens walked or were carried up the hill to the square in front of Kellach’s residence. Fiona pushed her terror and grief to the side, her skills were needed and she had no time for that now. Tanith and Xio Li had huge pots of water boiling and were organizing the injured so that Fiona treated the most serious injuries while they helped with the minor ones. Thankfully, the death count was less than originally calculated, but some of the injuries were such that Fiona doubted whether they would survive.
Long into the night, she worked, sewing and bandaging wounds, and comforting the survivors. It was a night of pure hell. By the time the last one had been treated, she was exhausted, her mind in a fog. Everything that she could do had been done and it was time for her to let others take over. Tanith and Xio Li and some of the other women would take turns caring for those too injured to return home, giving Fiona needed time to rest and recuperate.
In another part of the settlement, Voadicia, along with her personal guards, celebrated their victory in driving the invaders out of the settlement. Strangely, no one could remember actually seeing her guards during the battle. The bodies of the intruders were decapitated and their heads carried around as trophies and later displayed on posts in the square for all to see. When Fiona heard about this, she vowed not to go to the marketplace until they had been taken down, just the thought of those ghastly heads with their unblinking, unseeing eyes was too gruesome to imagine and made her sick. To her thinking, it was a show of barbarism in the worst possible way.
Kellach returned, wanting to assure himself that she was well and resting. It was a hard thing for a woman to handle, let alone a woman with child. She was resting on the bed, Conan cuddled against her, too tired to even undress. The dog rose up; wagging his tail and quivering in welcome.
Fiona opened her eyes. “I can’t get the whole thing out of my head, it just keeps repeating over and over and I see Engai die and then smashing that man’s face.” Her voice broke on a sob. “I can’t bear to think about it anymore.”
Kellach lay down beside her, and pulled her to him. “You did what you had to do. He would have killed you and the rest had you not acted. They do not show mercy,” He soothed her, kissing and caressing, trying to ease her distress.
“It just keeps repeating itself.” She sobbed, heart-broken and terrified. “I murdered a man!”
“You didn’t murder him, you defended yourself and Tanith and Machar and the baby. You could do no less.”
Something had been niggling at her brain, something she only now could remember. “Your young ward is a brave one. Did you know what a great archer he is?”
Kellach frowned. “I know not of what you speak.”
“There was a bowman near us. He was shooting very fast and very accurate. I saw three horsemen go down because of him. It just occurred to me—it was Cyrnon!”
Kellach shook his head, clearing his thoughts. “Cyrnon? Are you sure?”
“Very sure. Until you arrived, he was the only male near us who was fighting back. You should be very proud of him. He did not falter once. He just kept on shooting.”
Kellach let her talk, her voice calming and her body relaxing as she remembered other things.
“I didn’t realize it was him at the time, but now that I have had time to think, I know it was him.”
“I am aware that he practices every day, along with the other youths, but I did not know how he progressed.”
“Believe me, it was him and he did well. I don’t think we would have survived if he hadn’t been there.”
“Perhaps it is time Cyrnan becomes a man.”
Thirty-Five
Early the next morning, Kellach walked over to his parents’ house, looking for Cyrnon. He wasn’t there and he was not to be found. The twins were missing as well, their horses gone from the herds. Cyrnon and the twins had vanished and no
one could remember when they last were seen. Kellach knew without having to be told that they had followed Durlach and Elochad. He offered a small prayer to the four winds that they would return. His heart heavy, he returned home to let Fiona know.
A pall hung over the settlement as they labored to clean up the chaos left by the invaders, watching the horizon for the return of Durlach’s band. The women prepared Engai’s body for burial, washing and clothing her in the fine tunic she wore at Fiona’s wedding and gathering her other favorites to be buried with her. She was taken to the desert, a burial tomb readied, and left to the winds of time.
A few days later, one of the injured died, an older man who was caught in the square during the early moments of the attack. Fiona wept, she would never get used to losing a patient. She had tried so hard to save him. The others slowly improved, and by the end of the first week, all but a few had returned to their own homes.
Ten days after the attack, Durlach and the band of trackers returned. They had searched for days but had lost the trail. Cyrnon and the twins were not with them, and they had not seen them the entire time they had been gone.
When Elochad learned that the twins and Cyrnon had disappeared, he had to be physically restrained from going in search of them. Kellach put a full-time guard on him in the event he did try to leave and, as a result, Elochad just sat in a chair, staring at naught. Nothing seemed to matter to him any more. He had nothing left.
Fiona’s heart broke again. She had prayed so much that they would find Ceara, and that the boys would return safely, but it looked like all of them were lost.
Kellach said very little, but his demeanor was one of anguish and pain. Almost by design, the dust storms came again in full force, as though to impress upon them further their tenuous hold on life. Secreted in their houses, the people hid from the storms and waited for deliverance from their onslaught. When the winds finally died, the last of Fiona’s patients returned home and her life returned to a semblance of normalcy.