Oath of a Warrior (Legends of the Fenian Warriors Book 2)

by Mary Morgan

  His thumb traced a path over her bottom lip. “The feasting is in our honor. Whether we choose to stay or not, is entirely up to us. With the look ye are presenting me, I can tell we shall only be greeting our guests for a few hours.”

  Erina wrapped her arms around his neck. “Delightful. Now can ye explain the meaning of our unfinished tale?”

  Lifting his head, Rory closed his eyes. When he finally opened them, he gathered her into his arms. “Close your eyes, mo ghrá.”

  Erina eyed him cautiously. “Where are we going? Need I remind ye, we are without clothing?”

  She could feel the rumble of his laughter against her chest, and with a snap of his wrist, they vanished in a ripple of air.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  “A life without a loving guardian is a dangerous one to take.”

  ~Chronicles of the Fae

  For as long as she lived, Erina would never get used to moving from place to place within the air in seconds. Once, she opened her eyes, and cried out in pain from the intensity of the glittering colors. She would never make the same mistake again. Nor would she get used to him removing her clothes and putting them back on her body with one snap of his fingers. There would be boundaries after they were married.

  Rory paused before the gate to his mother’s cottage. His hand stilled on the wood. Was he afraid? Should she be fearful? He had proceeded to share some bits of knowledge after they returned. He told her the answers to their questions were inside his mother’s home. Was she prepared to meet her final destiny?

  Brushing her hands down the silk folds of her gown, she let out a sigh. She took a step alongside him and linked her arm within his. “Whatever awaits for me inside, it will not change how much I love ye, Rory.”

  He drew her closer. “Not only are there answers for ye, but I reckon I need to hear them, as well.” After brushing a light kiss along her lips, he opened the gate and moved along the path.

  The door to the cottage was left open, and the heady aroma of fresh flowers filled Erina. A prickle of awareness swept through her as they stepped inside the home. Someone else was here—another who whispered to her. Her body began to tremble, and she removed her hand from Rory’s.

  “Erina, dinnae be afraid,” Rory comforted.

  “Where is she?” She darted a glance beyond the main living room.

  When he refused to answer her question, she ran from the room and followed her senses. She ignored Rory’s pleas to wait and ran out the back entrance of the cottage, past the bubbling fountain and into the main garden. Her heart pounded fiercely against her chest as her steps faltered. Coming to a halt by the garden gate, Erina pressed a fist to her mouth to stifle the gasp.

  “Grandmother?”

  There among the rows of lavender and bluebells stood the woman who she believed was dead. Lights sparkled before her eyes as dizziness swamped Erina. Grabbing a hold of the gate, she blinked in an attempt to focus and lowered her head.

  Instantly, Rory was there, wrapping his arm around her waist for support. Her mind scrambled trying to discern what she was seeing. “Breathe, Erina.” He kissed her temple, and her shoulders relaxed.

  When she lifted her gaze, her grandmother was moving toward her. “Is this a dream? An illusion?”

  Her grandmother paused. She clasped her hands together and gave Erina a weak smile. “I am not what you believe, my child, and I am very much alive. Will you walk with me among the flowers?”

  Erina stole a glance at Rory. He brought her fingers to his lips. “Go hear your grandmother’s story.”

  Her lips trembled when she removed her hand from his. Rory opened the gate for her, and Erina made her way slowly to her grandmother. The impulse to rush into her arms was powerful, but fear kept her from reaching out. Erina stopped a few feet away from her.

  “How can ye be alive?”

  Her grandmother plucked a bluebell and handed it to Erina. “All life withers and dies, only to be reborn, aye?”

  Though she took the flower, she longed to fling it to the ground. “After everything I have gone through, I have nae desire to stand here and debate the life and death of the land. Ye have taught me well. Now is the time for honest answers.”

  Pursing her lips, her grandmother turned and started down the path. Erina had no choice but to follow. A rabbit skittered across her path, causing her to stumble. “Please stop.”

  The woman’s shoulders stiffened. Glancing over her shoulder, Erina could see the disapproval within her eyes. Her grandmother never did tolerate disobedience or impatience. Her solutions were always sought outdoors among the land or the stars.

  “I am leading you to a bench, so you can rest. I thought a leisurely walk among the flowers would help to calm your spirits before I tell you everything.”

  “Then ye understand how it pains me to walk verra far?”

  “I have been told of your injuries.” Tears misted in the woman’s eyes. “I am sorry I was not there to protect you.”

  Frustration seethed like bee stings in her stomach. “Ye died!”

  “Nae, I did not.” She turned back around and proceeded toward a rose-colored bench. After adjusting her gown, her grandmother sat down. Lifting her head to the sky, she closed her eyes.

  Erina fought the barb she longed to toss out and approached in slow steady steps. Sitting on the opposite end of the bench, she clasped her hands together, crushing the bluebell’s petals. She pursed her lips and studied the woman. She appeared younger than Erina remembered. The lines around her eyes were gone, and there was a youthful glow to her cheeks. Instead of the silver streaks of gray that ran throughout her dark locks, there was only one band of white on the right side. This woman might claim to be her grandmother, but something was different. Even her language was changed.

  The light of illumination blossomed within Erina. They were in the Fae realm—a place of magic and beautiful people. She reached for her hand. “Ye are Fae,” she uttered with conviction.

  Her grandmother opened her eyes and smiled fully. “Yes, my child.”

  “Am I…Fae?”

  She squeezed Erina’s hand and then released it. “No. I shall always be your grandmother, but not in blood.”

  Anguish tore into Erina. The woman she cherished, loved, and thought to be her kin was someone else entirely. She gripped the sides of the bench and cast her gaze outward. “I am listening…”

  “I am known as the Master Fae Apothecary. I have been the guardian over great healers and those who wield magic over the land for thousands of years. Actually, longer than I can fully explain or you can comprehend. I came into your mother’s life when she was but a wee lass. She had the gift. Her own mother had no interest in tending to plants, herbs, and flowers, so she let me take over in assisting her.” She paused and stood.

  “As she grew older, your mother was spirited, but refused to listen to my advice when it came to love and men, especially when her own parents passed on to the land of eternal youth. One day, the Laird of Kileburn came passing through. He flirted outright with her, and she succumbed to his charm and flowery words. Refusing to listen to my concerns, she left for the castle and did not return for many months. When she did, she was already carrying his child—you. My heart splintered the day I came upon her in the woods. I spewed out words to the Gods and Goddesses, angry for not sparing her life.”

  Her grandmother dotted her cheeks as the tears spilled down. “The moment I removed you from her cold arms and bundled you into mine, I fully understood what the Fates had destined. You were meant for the greatest journey of all, and I fell in love with you immediately.”

  Standing, Erina wandered over to a rosemary bush. She fingered the soft needles, their fragrance more potent in this world. “Rory has spoken to me of my death.”

  “Bah! It should not have been!”

  Erina snorted and pulled her hand away. “So Rory has declared many times.”

  Her grandmother approached warily. “My child, I understand how learning t
his knowledge has left you with doubts. You have endured great pain and suffering. I am sure you need time to dwell on my words and Rory’s.”

  She wanted to laugh at the absurdity of her response. She wasn’t blood, but this woman in front of her had protected, guided, and loved her. Her heart burst with unsaid words and emotions. Did it truly matter if the woman was Fae or human? She had raised Erina and in doing so, had given her so much.

  “You’re wrong. With everything I have heard, my love for Rory will never change. In truth, it grows each day.” Erina gestured outward. “Aye, I find it difficult to process this world, Rory, and now I have ye—alive and well. My love for ye both will never diminish.” She rubbed a hand over her forehead. “I confess, I’ll likely be in shock for some time, but I love ye, Grandmother.”

  The woman opened her arms. “As I love you, Erina.”

  As she embraced her grandmother, Erina sighed, and the tears she had kept within spilled forth.

  For several moments, they held each other. Her grandmother whispered soothing words in her ear and the tension eased. Erina drew back, since one question continued to plague her. “Why your death? Why not stay?”

  Her grandmother chuckled and pointed a finger over Erina’s shoulder. “Because the Fenian Warrior would have become suspicious and questioned my reasons for being with you. I feared he would have soon left, and I decided it was time for me to depart. If I had stayed, Rory might have deviated from his journey. In truth, it was time for you to begin your destiny, as well.”

  Rory approached them. He wrapped an arm around Erina and kissed her tenderly. “When did you come upon this knowledge, Aelish? You died months before my arrival.”

  Her grandmother shrugged. “The land sent me a message.”

  “A Fae messenger from the seer?” Rory countered.

  “Is it not all the same?”

  “Regardless,” interjected Erina, “I am happy you are alive. And I must admit, ye look wonderful, Grandmother.”

  Aelish winked at her. “In your world, one must gradually grow older with each passing year.” Turning to Rory, she asked, “When did you realize I was Erina’s guardian.”

  Shifting his stance, he brought forth the amethyst pendant around Erina to the light. “There was something strange when I noticed the shimmer of light in the amethyst in our world. Only gems and crystals from our world capture the radiance.” Letting it drop, he continued, “Of course, when Erina mentioned your name, the spark of knowledge entered my mind. When I sensed your presence nearby, I gathered ye were her grandmother.”

  Erina clasped her pendant, the stone warm in the palm of her hand. “I have had this for as long as I can recall.”

  Aelish cupped her cheek. “I gave it to you on the day you planted your first flower. You were three summers.”

  Her eyes lit up. “I remember that day. We stayed in the garden until the moon rose over the trees.”

  “Yes. And when the moon glow touched your cheeks, I draped the pendant over your neck. I understood there would be a time when your Fae lover would come for you. Your soul was tied to the land and—” Aelish grabbed Rory’s hand and placed it with Erina’s. “—to this Fenian Warrior.”

  She took a step back and extended her arms, but her gaze was directed to Rory. “Regardless of what the laws state about a love between a human and Fae, the future was woven. To tamper with the Goddess is forbidden, even in this world, Fenian Warrior. The Goddess blessed this union and not even the king and queen, or anyone else can go against what she has destined.”

  “I sense a shift in the Brotherhood. Conn is forming a new Order,” Rory stated.

  Erina leaned into him. “Again, so much to learn.”

  Her grandmother waved her hand about. “Enough of lessons. This is a time of joyous reunions. I am eager to meet my great-granddaughter. I’ve heard she can charm the butterflies.”

  Laughter bubbled forth from Erina. “She has been doing so since the first few days after her birth.”

  Aelish began to move along the path. “No surprise. She’s destined to become the next Master Apothecary.”

  Erina stared at her grandmother's retreating back, completely stunned by her pronouncement.

  Rory brought their joined hands to his lips. The warmth of his touch seared into her body, and she turned her attention to him. “Will I ever not be in a state of amazement?”

  “I hope not, mo ghrá,” he whispered and captured her mouth in a passionate kiss.

  ****

  Erina traveled along the length of Rory’s library chamber, brushing her fingers over the gilded spines of his books. Some of the titles she recognized, but there were many that were foreign to her. Parchment scrolls were tucked into smaller nooks within the shelves, and she deemed those to be ancient works. His vast collection was a wonder. As soon as they were married and settled, she was going to have him teach her all the different languages.

  His rooms inside the Crystal Palace were opulent and spacious as she continued to move from one room to the next. Erina marveled at the lush colors—from tapestries of the Fae realm to the many crystals of various sizes placed on polished maple, oak, and yew tables. Entering his private chamber, her cheeks heated. A massive four-poster bed rested in the middle of the room. Above, light glittered in jeweled tones from a stained glass mosaic of a giant oak tree. Its roots branched outward in various colors. A giant hearth stood opposite, and the mantel was adorned with fresh greenery. The heady scent of pine lingered, along with fresh rose petals that had been strewn across the bed coverings.

  Her nerves tingled in anticipation of him making love to her on the golden velvet coverings. She hadn’t seen him for two long days. Her grandmother and Rory's mother had ordered him to return to other chambers within the Brotherhood far away from Erina. In truth, they had banished him immediately. She’d never forget the hurt look he gave them both when he vanished before their eyes. Though Erina missed him, she was grateful for the time spent becoming reacquainted with her grandmother. She also enjoyed listening to tales from Rory’s mother about his youthful pranks, and having both women fuss over Angelica.

  Treasured bonding memories.

  She slipped out of the room, closing the doors behind her. Moving to the garden doors, she pushed them open. The warm air kissed her cheeks in greeting.

  “My wedding day,” she uttered softly.

  Turning toward the sound of knocking on the main chamber door, Erina brushed a lock of hair from her shoulder and made her way to the entrance.

  When she opened the door, she was unprepared for the vision smiling up at her. “Greetings, Erina.” The tiny woman grasped one of her hands. “My name is Ivy. May I come in and wait with you?”

  Her speech was one she had never encountered, and then Erina gasped, recalling the name of Conn’s wife. “Princess Ivy,” she affirmed and curtsied. “I would be honored.”

  The woman giggled. “Oh, goodness, please don’t do that.” Ivy released her hand and stepped inside the chamber. “I am still finding it difficult that most of the Fae continue to bow or wait until I speak before they utter a word.”

  Erina closed the door. “But ye are a princess.”

  “Yes, but there are times when I just want to have a normal conversation. As I am sure you will understand once Rory takes you around the realm.”

  Smiling, Erina gestured her forward. “Would ye like to sit with me in the garden?”

  “Love to! Oh, and you are stunning, Erina. The pale green gown is a perfect color for your dark auburn tresses and blue eyes. You are a beautiful bride.”

  Erina fingered the gauzy material. “Thank ye. ’Tis so soft, but I am not used to wearing such…” She bit her lip, trying to find the right word.

  “That there should be more material?” Ivy pointed out.

  “Aye!” She laughed and dropped her hands. “I started to protest when my grandmother and Rory’s mother presented me with the dress.”

  “Considering the century you’re from,
it does seem that way for you. In my time, you would be shocked at the way women now dress. However, I do love the way the material clings to our bodies and seems to float with each movement.”

  “Ye are not from near my own time?” Rory mentioned Conn also marrying a woman from the mortal world, but assumed it was within her own century.

  “Nope. I am ahead of yours by hundreds of years.”

  Erina staggered. “Sweet Goddess.”

  Ivy clutched her arm. “No fainting on your wedding day. Rory would have words with Conn, and they are finally on civil speaking terms again. Let us go outside and wait for the High Priestess to come for us.”

  “Then ye can tell me all about yourself.”

  After leading Erina to a cushioned chair, Ivy brought another one close to her side. She immediately went into a detailed account of how she and Conn met. Her mind fought to keep up with the woman’s conversation and choice of words that were unfamiliar to Erina. By the third attempt at explaining a certain phrase or word, Erina gave up and listened with rapt attention to Ivy. She found the woman enchanting with her short hair and pale skin. Her eyes danced with mirth, and when she spoke of Conn, love infused each word.

  “’Tis an incredible account, Ivy.”

  As she shielded her eyes from the sun, the woman shifted. “I hear your tale was fraught with danger and fire damaged your legs.”

  Erina let out a sigh. “Aye, but out of the ashes came a spark of life to help me heal. Our daughter, Angelica.”

  Ivy placed a gentle hand on her arm. “A true miracle. I am so happy for you and Rory. After you are settled, please bring Angelica to visit with Sorcha. It will be good for her to have another half-human to bond with, besides all the Fae children.”

  Bells chimed in the distance, and both women turned. The air thinned and a rainbow of lights shimmered. Ivy stood and stepped aside. “The priestess is arriving.”

  Standing slowly, Erina gently straightened the folds of her gown. She pressed her palm to her pendant to steady her nerves as the woman glided through the light.