by Mia Pride
The closer she came, the more she could hear deep male voices booming, though none sounded like Caleb’s, and the murmur of the crowd. The door was open wide to the hall and she paused before stepping inside.
“It is good to see you again,” she heard King Ailbert’s voice say from within the hall. “You are most welcome.” Och, it really was Caleb. Somehow, she had not yet been convinced that he had returned, but who else would King Ailbert be greeting back into the tuath?
A wall of men and women blocked the entrance, but she kindly pushed her way through with murmured apologies. Glennis reached out with her sticky fingers and yanked on the long braid of a man standing in front of them. He grunted and turned with anger in his eyes, but when he saw Glennis’s large blue eyes staring back at him and her four-toothed smile, the man’s face melted into one of pleasure. Och, thank the gods her daughter was a bonny wee thing. “I am sorry,” Morna whispered, and the man only chuckled as they pushed past him.
Someone gripped her shoulder and jerked her back. With a startled gasp, Morna looked behind her to see her mother dragging her arm and pulling her away from the hall, out the door. “Ma! What are you doing?” she squealed a lot louder than she had intended.
“Ye will follow me back home. Now,” her mother insisted with determination in her voice.
“But, I thought you wanted me to see Caleb,” Morna whispered, noticing many sets of eyes were on her now and she flushed slightly.
“’Tis not yer Caleb who has returned. Now hie yerself back home before I whoop ye.”
“What?” Her mother had not chapped her hide since she was a lass of three and ten. Why was she making empty threats and dragging Morna away? “What is the matter with you?” she cried as her mother’s grip grew painful on her upper arm.
The moment they were back outside, her mother spun on her and narrowed her eyes. “’Tis that man. He has come back. Ye need to stay away from him. Do ye understand me?”
Nay. Morna did not understand what her mother was blathering about. “What man, Ma? You are talking nonsense!”
“Morna?” a deep, familiar voice said behind her and she stiffened, too afraid to turn around and see the memory from her past. Or, was she afraid of turning around and finding it was not him at all? Heart in her throat, palms sweating and shaking as she tightened her grip on Glennis for support, she turned slowly. All the air left her lungs as his beautiful green eyes searched hers.
“Brennain,” she croaked, as she took in the sight of him. He was a wall of muscle with a face that could have been carved by the gods. His black hair was slightly longer than she remembered, and his strong jaw was covered in several days’ worth of growth, but it was him. The man she suddenly realized she had never stopped loving. How? How could she have known him for such a brief time yet feel like her heart was in his hands while he twisted and squeezed it until she thought she may die from the pain?
His eyes glanced over to Glennis and they widened. She would have given anything to know what he was thinking at that moment, but she never got the chance as her mother yanked her back once more. “Stay away from my daughter!” her mother spat. “Ye have done enough damage to her since ye left! She is married with a child now, so go on!”
Hurt flickered in his eyes and his beautiful mouth dropped into a deep frown. What had he expected? He had been gone for two years. She wanted to tell him all that had happened since he left, but was it truly any of his concern? Could he actually come back here and have the nerve to appear disappointed or sad that she had moved on? Still, the look of sorrow in his eyes was genuine and she wished to reach out to him.
“Is that true, Morna?” he whispered. It was a wonder she heard him at all, for he spoke so softly, and her mother continued to drag her back.
“Aye!” her mother hollered. “Leave her be! Ye won’t be breaking her heart again!”
“Morna?” he urged. He wanted to hear it from her own lips.
“Well…” Nay. Not really. If only he knew the whole truth. Still, no matter what the truth was, she did have a husband and a child to care for. “Aye… but…” Why did she suddenly feel guilty, as if she had let him down? He had left her. After whispered words of tenderness, passionate kisses that lead to nothing aside from her heart breaking when he left without any promises of a return. “There is more to it than that…”
He held up a hand and flexed his jaw, clearly trying to control some emotion. “That is all I needed to know,” he forced through clenched teeth, before spinning on his heel and storming back into the hall. She wanted to call after him, but what was the point? If he wanted to turn his back and act as if she had done him wrong, then so be it. She could not change her circumstances and should not be made to feel guilty for having a life.
She watched until he fully retreated into the hall, not missing the perfection of his backside as he stormed off, then she relented and followed her mother back in silence. But the moment they were back in the house, Morna carefully put Glennis down in her bed and turned on her mother, hands on hips. “Why did you do that?”
“Do what? Stop ye from making a mistake?” her mother shot back.
“A mistake? I loved him, Ma! How is that a mistake?”
“Do ye love him still?”
Morna went to open her mouth and then clamped it shut. She could not lie to her mother. Silently, she nodded and looked down.
“Aye. That is yer mistake, lass. Ye are a married woman!”
“Only because you forced Caleb to wed with me once Glennis was born!” she shot back.
“The wee babe needed her father and we needed a man to protect us! The threat of the Rómánach invading is ever-present!”
“And how did that work out, Ma? Caleb is not here! He took off with Mal to join the Rómánach! He is gone! He is not coming back!”
“Aye, he will!”
“Nay! He will not, Ma! He left without so much as a farewell to me or his own daughter! He has no love for us, and I have none for him! It was a marriage of convenience and it is nay longer convenient for me to be wed to him! I want to dissolve our marriage,” Morna shouted. Glennis began to cry and Morna ran over to her daughter, running her fingers through her soft blonde curls, watching as the lass settled down into her bed, her eyes fluttering shut.
“This is why I was right to pull ye away from that man. One look at him and ye are wanting to leave yer husband.” Her mother was a stubborn woman, but Morna knew she meant well. Done with the shouting, Morna sighed and prepared to reason with her.
“I am not leaving him. He left me. Us. Can you not accept that truth? I do not miss him. He was never home. He trained in the fields by day and drank ale and bed other lassies by night. Do not pretend you do not know this, Ma. How do you think I came to be the mother of Glennis?” she raised a brow at her mother, driving her point home. “He bedded a married woman and got her with child. When the mother died after labor, did Caleb step up to claim his daughter then? Nay, Ma. I did. I delivered Glennis into this world, watched her mother die before my eyes, begging me to ask Caleb to take her. When he did not, I took her. It was only your persistence that he marry me and raise his daughter, that finally made him do so. Neither of us wanted this marriage, but only I wanted his daughter. He is not a good man, Ma.”
Apparently, her gently spoken words were better received than her shouts of frustration. Her mother’s shoulders sagged in defeat. “Aye. I know, lass. I only meant to make sure ye and Glennis had protection. I also wanted to make that lout do the right thing and raise his own daughter. I should have known that ye cannot force a man to do right. But it was more than that…”
Morna saw the gentle rise and fall of Glennis’s chest and knew she was sound asleep. Walking over to sit on a bench near her mother, she wrapped her arms around her shoulders, trying to comfort her. “What else, Ma?” she whispered.
“That man…” she pointed at the closed door and Morna knew she was referring to Brennain, though she refused to say his name. “He brok
e yer heart. I hated to see ye so sorrowful all the cursed time after he left. I saw Caleb as an opportunity to make ye happy. He was a strong warrior with a handsome face. I thought I could correct both of yer mistakes by marrying ye.”
“Both of our mistakes?” Morna’s eyes widened. “What mistake did I make? Are you saying adopting Glennis as my own was a mistake?” she squeaked, trying to hold back her ire.
“Nay, daughter. That was the one thing ye did right. I meant that he erred by impregnating a married woman and abandoning the child. Ye erred by giving your innocence to a man who would take it and run. It was a chance for ye to keep yer reputation and for Caleb to raise his own child.”
“Ma!” she scolded. “Brennain did not take my innocence. He did naught but kiss me! You thought…”
“Aye, well ye seemed so in love with him and I had heard all the stories of his conquests. Lass, that man has a reputation that spans across the sea,” her mother clucked.
“I was a maiden until the day I married Caleb Mac Kenzie, Ma.” Morna quirked a brow.
“Oh.” Looking down, her mother twiddled her thumbs. “I was only trying to protect ye and Glennis, ye know.”
“I know, but Caleb is gone. Brennain’s reappearance has nothing to do with my desire to dissolve my marriage. I have wished to do so from the moment I married him. He is a foul man and I prefer to raise Glennis alone than beside a man who wishes to be gone.”
“For what it’s worth, that man looked quite distraught when he heard ye were married,” her mother murmured.
“Brennain. His name is Brennain.”
“One step at a time, Morna. I will say his name when I know he is worthy of it.”
Morna snorted at that. “All right, Ma.” Leaning in, she kissed her mother’s hair and inhaled her natural scent. “In the morn, I am approaching King Ailbert for a separation from Caleb. He deserted me. I do not see any reason the king would contest my grievances.”
Her mother nodded solemnly and then looked up at her with her gray-blue eyes, the eyes Morna inherited from her. “And what about… that man?”
Morna’s heart sank and she stood, folding her hands into her skirts so her mother would not see them shake. “What about him? You made certain he knows I am unavailable. I am not sure why he is here, but I would be a fool to think he came on my behalf after all this time. He is one of Tuathal’s champion warriors. No doubt he seeks the whereabouts of Mal Mac Rochride and will be leaving Miathi soon enough.” The words pained her to speak, but they were the truth. She had to make herself accept that Brennain was a warrior for Ériu and would never stay here long. He also never made a single promise to her, therefore he owed her nothing. Yet, despite her logic, she felt compelled to seek him out and explain her situation to him. It should not matter, for it would change nothing, but she needed him to know that she never forgot him.
Yawning, she felt emotionally and physically drained. Sitting on the bed next to Glennis, she stretched out and wrapped herself around her daughter, deciding a nap would be best to clear her head and hopefully give her time to decide when and where to corner Brennain… and figure out what she would even say.
* * * *
The mood in the hall was rowdy and celebratory, but the ache pounding away at Brennain’s head rivaled the ache in his heart. He had been away far too long and knew he could not blame Morna for having moved on, but it did not make the pain spearing his guts any less intense. He would be a bloody liar if he said he had not lain with more women than he could count during the past two years, but he had never forgotten Morna, and no other woman had ever meant anything to him the way she had. He had not even seen her with her clothes off and yet he knew that he would marry her and love her forever. Too bad another man had claimed the title as her husband. How had his life spun out of control so quickly, and why had he never contemplated the possibility that she would be married?
Then he thought about the wee lass Morna had held in her arms. That child had to be at least a year old, which meant Morna had conceived her only moons after he left. He scoffed to himself. She had wasted no time at all marrying and getting with child. Had he meant nothing to her at all? He had not even touched another woman for the first few moons after he left Morna. His mind had played over all the scenarios that would bring him back her way, but in the end, he was a warrior with responsibilities to his king and with the threat of Mal ever-looming, leaving his people to chase a woman was not a possibility.
It still wasn’t. Mayhap he had harbored some hope of bringing her back with him to Ériu once he was done with his mission, but that hope had disappeared as fast as sand slipping through his fingers on a windy shore. She had clearly not felt the need to pine over him when he left, as he had her.
His sadness slowly morphed into anger and he harnessed it. Anger hurt less than heartache. Gripping his mug of ale in his hand, he brought it to his lips and chugged it down as fast as he could, allowing the bitter taste to mix with his bitter mood.
“Need some more, mate?” Reaghan leaned over him, swaying slightly and Brennain nodded. Once they had arrived and been welcomed by King Ailbert, they explained that they were seeking the location of Mac Rochride. Just as Tuathal had expected, Mal had been here and taken a few good men with him. Most men were loyal to the High King of Ériu, since he had been born and raised here in Alba and his mother had been the daughter of a local king. Yet, where power and riches were offered, greed would always abound. And, according to King Ailbert, the Rómánach people brought with them more than advancements in building and living, they brought chests filled with gold coins. Already in the south, they used these coins as currency instead of trading cattle and goods as the people in Alba and Ériu continued to do.
While there were definite benefits to allowing the Rómánach to develop the land, the people of Alba were proud and stubborn, preferring their traditions and own ways of living. They had no desire for change. King Ailbert suspected that Mal sought out these foreign men to offer them help in conquering the northern clans of Alba and then Ériu. The man wanted power and if he thought he could gain it by dealing with the Rómánach, he would stop at nothing. Brennain and Reaghan were anxious to be on the road to track him down, and many men believed him to be residing at an established fort several miles directly north, called Barochan Hill. According to the king’s scouts, this fort was recently established and the place where the major generals of the Rómánach army were residing. If Mal was looking for support, this would be his first stop.
Now that their meeting with the king was done, the people of Miathi had swarmed them with support and loads of ale, and right about now, Brennain needed all the ale he could get. He would deal with the consequences in the morning. A bonnie lass carried over a jug of ale and poured more into his mug, leaning over him more than necessary, allowing him a decent view of her ample bosom. Reaghan smacked the lass on the arse and she squealed, spilling ale in Brennain’s lap, but he only grunted as Reaghan dragged the giggling lass into a dark corner. Let his mate have some fun. Brennain drank his ale slowly and looked around the crowded hall. Most faces were new to him, but he recognized a few from his last visit. He had been so preoccupied by his immediate connection with Morna previously that he had paid no attention to any other woman. Now he wished he had never met the lass. Somehow, he had gone from a carefree warrior to a broken man, and he did not like the feeling at all. Scanning the room, he wondered which fortunate bastard was her husband and immediately hated every man he saw.
He growled and drained his mug, slamming it down. This was not at all how this was supposed to go. He may have been with many lassies, but he would like to think he never left a trail of broken hearts in his wake. They all knew he was only looking to slake his lust. If he had ever made a woman feel the way he felt now, then he had some apologies to dole out when he arrived home, because there was nothing pleasant about the dull throb in his chest or the tightening knot in his stomach.
A familiar man sat down across from
him and Brennain immediately remembered him as one of the warriors he had met on his last trip to Miathi, when he first met Jeoffrey, now one of Ráth Mór’s best warriors and one of Brennain’s best mates.
“Are you Morna’s husband?” Brennain questioned with an edge to his voice, as he signaled a serving lass to refill his mug once more.
The man’s brow furrowed and then he laughed. “Och, I wish. She is the bonniest lass in Miathi, but nay, she is not married to me.”
Brennain scowled at the man, trying to remember his name, but with so much time having passed and so much ale addling his brain, he could not conjure the memory. “What is your name?” Brennain asked, this time a little more amicably, though he did not appreciate the man’s interest in Morna.
“Kelvyn,” the man said, and he smiled as the serving lass sauntered up with more ale. She refilled his mug and Brennain muttered his thanks, though he did not spare the lass a look. Whether she was bonny or not did not matter. He wanted to drink more ale, interrogate this man, then pass out until he set off for Barochan Hill in the morn.
“Aye, that’s right. I remember now,” Brennain said, and the man smiled, but in truth, Brennain hardly remembered the man at all. He must have been so focused on his feelings for Morna the last time he was here that he had a challenging time remembering much else about the place. He remembered kissing her for the first time behind her mother’s byre. It had felt like lightning struck him from above when their lips touched. She had tasted as sweet as honey and smelled like it, too. How could he remember the dark flecks of deep blue in her gray eyes, yet he could not remember the name of any of the warriors he had sparred with while here?
