by Mia Pride
“Aye, Sir. I shall track him down,” Eoghann bowed slightly. Always a polite man, Mal could not help but wish he had been successful in gaining his daughter back so he could marry her to his best man instead. Morale had been down after she left, but having his men here at the fort with women available to alleviate their lust had been helpful. Still, for his best warrior, he preferred an alliance of the blood, to have him and Elwynna produce an heir to take over the throne.
“I want you to journey to Miathi and see if those bastards can be found there. I cannot have them destroying all we have accomplished!” he roared. He could feel the anger in his veins boiling over as it did so very often as of late. His fight for the throne had not been as easy as he thought it would be and he found that Tuathal’s influence over both Ériu and Alba spread wide. If not for these foreign men and their aid, he would stand no chance. “Remember what is at stake, Eoghann. You saw my daughter. You lived with her and her husband… the man you called a friend in your youth. She is a bonny wee lass, aye?”
Eoghann cleared his throat and a small smile lifted his lips. “Aye. That she is, Sir.”
“I want you and her to produce my heir. For that to happen, we need to succeed in our takeover of Ráth Mór and all Ériu. Once I am king, we will make certain her husband is dead and you will marry her. But Bryant and Mack know of this plan. If they escape, it will only cause more trouble. If you want Elwynna for your wife… if you want your son to be heir to the High Throne of Ériu, you will find those men and kill them. Remember. Tuathal killed your father. Do not let his death be in vain.”
Eoghann’s pleasant smile faded and was replaced by his usual shadow of revenge. Mal prided himself on knowing how to manipulate people to his will. The Rómánach wanted more power and land? Eoghann wanted revenge? His men wanted the gold the Rómánach offered? Mal would use all of that to guide them toward his ultimate goal.
“Fire!” a man shouted as he ran toward Mal’s tent. “A ship is on fire on the shore!”
“What?” Mal roared. How was that even possible? His men were forced by the Rómánach to reside on the easternmost side of the fort, with the sea to the west. They were within walking distance to the ships and had spent the last several days loading one up for a discreet voyage to Ériu where they would find a place to build their own Rómánach fort and slowly bring over the rest of his and the Rómánach armies. Their attack would come from the land, surprising Tuathal, who always had one eye on the shoreline. But Mal had an advantage the Rómánach did not. He knew the uninhabited areas of Ériu. He knew where to land and where to build so they could quietly colonize, regroup and attack from the west, the complete opposite direction Tuathal would expect. Nobody but his men and the Rómánach could access this side of the sea… how could a ship catch fire?
“Go see what goes on!” Mal shouted, as he began to run toward the shore, Eoghann and a few other men following in his wake.
It did not take long to see the ship they had spent so many hours loading precious cargo and coins onto, up in flames. “Nay! Put out the fire, you imbeciles!”
“We cannot, Sir! ‘Tis far too late. ‘Tis as if the entire ship went up in flames all at once!” one of his men shouted.
“It is a sign from the gods! They do not like our plans,” another man said. Mal turned and punched the man in the face, causing him to groan and fall onto the rocky shore. He would not tolerate any of his men spewing such words and tainting the other men. If they thought the gods were against them, half of them would flee.
“You fools! ‘Tis not the gods!”
“Look… there are men on shore, in the shadows but I can see them when the fire flickers just so,” Eoghann said as he shaded his eyes with a hand.
“Stop those men!” Mal roared, and a few of his men charged forward. It was too late. Whoever it was, they had horses and a cart prepared and were already moving swiftly out of sight.
Mal roared every curse he could think of while his brain processed the situation and he watched all his cargo… and gold… sink into the sea or burn into ash. It had to be a man who knew the fort, knew where the ships were, knew what was on that ship and what its purpose was… a man who knew where to find a cart and horses… Caleb Mac Kenzie. Was the man truly capable of such deceit? He had seemed to lack brains on the best of days, but mayhap that was his way of making everyone, including Mal, underestimate him. Caleb had gone missing just as the fire started. It was not a coincidence.
“Eoghann! It was Caleb! Go! Get a horse and kill him before he reaches Miathi. I cannot have a war with Miathi on my hands, especially after this blow. It will ruin everything we have accomplished and the Rómánach will not support us in a small skirmish.”
“Aye, I will find him, Sir. I will take care of everything. Caleb Mac Kenzie is a dead man.”
* * * *
“He is not here. I told you that.” Morna crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the blond-haired man standing in front of her. He claimed to be a relative of Caleb’s seeking him out, but Morna knew the man was telling falsehoods. Caleb had grown up here in Miathi, and though his mother had been from another local tribe, Morna had never once heard Caleb speak about that family and as far as she knew, none of them even knew he existed. Why would this man suddenly show up knowing his name and asking for him? She had a gut feeling her former husband had gotten himself into trouble once more, and though she despised Caleb, she would not help this man locate him even if she could. “Where did you say you are from?”
The man looked her right in the eye. “I am from Caereni, where his mother once lived. Her brother is my father. He told me she was sent here to foster at the age of seven and never came back, having married a man here. I am his cousin and have looked for him yet cannot find him.”
Morna chewed her lower lip and looked behind her at her mother who rocked a sleeping Glennis in her arms inside their home. Her mother shrugged but kept her eyes on the man. She truly had no idea if his words were true or not. She knew Caleb’s mother was indeed from Caereni, but anyone who knew him could know that information. Whether Caleb had an uncle or cousins, she would not know. She and Caleb never spoke much of his life. He had never opened up to her and she had never cared. Still, something seemed strange about the man only just now showing up after Caleb had gone.
“I do not know where Caleb is, and this is the truth,” she huffed, blowing a stray blonde hair away from her face. “He is nay longer my husband. He left me and our daughter, and I have not seen him since. I asked the king for a separation and he granted it, on the terms of abandonment. I do not expect to ever see the man again,” she said slowly, not breaking eye contact with the determined man. He was large and muscular and wore clean trousers and a plaid tunic. He was intimidating, but he did not frighten her.
His gaze softened, and he smiled. “You are a wee bonny lass. You know that, do you not? Why would my cousin leave you all alone? Mayhap you are in need of a better man,” he waggled his brows and she could not contain her scowl.
“I need nay man. I did not before, and I do not now.”
Glennis cooed and made slobbering sounds behind her and the man’s gaze snapped to her daughter. “You may not need a man, but I believe your daughter and your mother do. ‘Tis unheard of for three lassies to live alone.”
“Which is the only reason I agreed to marry Caleb, but as you can see, that did not turn out so well.”
The man ran his hand through his blond beard as if thinking hard about his next move. Something still did not sit right with Morna. The man was convincing, aye, but her instincts told her he was here for more than a familial visit.
“What is your name again?” she asked, raising a brow.
“My name is Owen.”
“What is your surname?”
“Mac Kenzie, just as your husband.”
“Former husband,” she corrected. She could not find fault with any of his answers, but she still did not trust the man.
“Allow me to e
nter your home and speak with you further.”
“How did you get through the gates?”
“I told you.” The man was starting to sound more and more irritated, but she could not care. She would not allow this man near her daughter. “I am Caleb’s cousin. Even your warriors understood that.”
“Well…” Mayhap she had been wrong. Was she being inhospitable to a man who had traveled so far? If he really was Caleb’s cousin, then he may be the only blood relation Glennis would ever know. “I am not sure…”
“Just allow me to—”
“Eoghann! Stay away from her before I gut you with my sword!”
Morna’s heart leaped up into her throat. She knew that voice. Never in her entire life would she forget it. It was so deep and rich, and it gave her gooseflesh over every inch of her body, even now after all the pain he had caused her.
“Brennain?” The man who claimed to be named Owen said with surprise. Why had Brennain called him Eoghann? Looking up, she finally dared to make eye contact. His green eyes blazed, but he was looking at the man before her as his large, muscled body charged in their direction.
Grabbing the man by the collar of his tunic, Brennain growled in his face and bared his teeth. Morna gasped and stepped back, not at all certain what was happening. Brennain was covered in mud, grass stains, and had a leaf in his hair. He looked as if he had been traveling for days and the look in his eyes was more than frightening. Never had she seen this strong warrior who had stolen her heart years ago actually use his strength against a man.
“What are you doing here, Eoghann? Did Mal send you?”
“I would ask you the same question. Last time I saw you, you were in Ériu.”
“Aye, fighting against you and your men after you stole my brother’s wife to exchange her for Elwynna! You and Mal fled that battle, cowards that you are. Now I find you here in Miathi? How convenient.”
“I think you know I go where Mal goes. I assume if you are here in Alba, you came in search of the man. But I am not here for you. I am searching for another. The man who set our ship on fire. Caleb Mac Kenzie. And this wee lass is his wife.”
“Former wife.” How many times did Morna have to tell the man that she was no longer married to the arse?
At her words, Brennain’s intense gaze pulled away from the man he still held by the collar… Owen? Eoghann? When his eyes locked with hers, she felt as if she may catch fire, her blood burned so hotly in her veins. It was that look he gave her before that nearly made her crumple to her knees before him. It was likely the same look he gave all the lassies, including Arline and Mavis, when he wanted to win them over. Narrowing her eyes, she made sure he saw how unaffected she was by him, or at least did her best to look convincing.
Why did Brennain continue to stare at her? Did her words shock him? Was he surprised to hear she was no longer Caleb’s wife? That thought made her pulse quicken, but she tamped it down and turned her back, grabbing her daughter from her mother in a protective embrace.
“I want you men to go. This is my home and you are disturbing us. Caleb is not here and as I said, I doubt he ever will be. Now, go. Take this elsewhere. I do not know either of you…” her gaze shifted back to Brennain’s. “Not truly.” She saw the hurt in his eyes but she turned away once more and prepared to slam the door.
“Morna?” Shite. She knew that voice as well. And by the sound of it, he did not seem any happier to see her than she would be to see him. Turning back around slowly, she cringed as she saw the last man she ever wanted to lay eyes on again. Speaking of eyes, he had two black ones and though she did not care, she wondered how he had earned them, for she was most certain they were well-deserved.
“Och, well if it is not Caleb Mac Kenzie!” She rolled her eyes and snorted, shifting their daughter in her arms once more. “Come back to father your daughter, have you? Well, you are not needed, nor are you welcome. You can go back to wherever you came from!” She stomped her foot and felt her blood boiling. Och, she hated his face. It was a beautiful face, but not one that had ever enthralled her. Being married to him had been a task she took on for the sake of Glennis, but they were better off without the lout.
“Believe me, dear wife. I was much happier where I was before I was dragged back. Forced back, in fact,” he said wryly, as if it was not more than a usual event for him.
“I will say this once more, so you hear it clearly and I never have to repeat it again. I am nay longer your wife, Caleb. And I do not care where you go.”
“What?” Brennain roared, looking at her incredulously as he wrangled that strange blond man and glared over his shoulder at Caleb, who was now being watched by the warrior who came over with Brennain from Ériu, and a strange red-haired lass who wore Brennain’s cloak. Her heart lurched at that one small detail and she wondered how, in all the confusion, shock and disgust she felt in this moment, nothing hurt worse than another woman wearing Brennain’s cloak. Och, she really was a besotted fool to even care.
And, why was Brennain so angry to hear that she did not want to see Caleb? Why had they arrived together? Nothing made sense at all. She furrowed her brow and looked back at Brennain, who was actually frowning at her as if displeased. Mayhap he had hoped to reunite her with her husband, so he could feel better about his new relationship with this red-haired woman, who was really quite beautiful, if not clearly timid.
“The king is on his way,” Reaghan said calmly, yet glaring at Owen, or Eoghann, or whoever he was. She truly did not care.
Mack and Bryant showed up next and Morna shook her head in confusion. What in the world was going on? Suddenly all the men who had disappeared showed up once more. The sight of Mack warmed her heart and she could not help but smile. Now she knew where Caleb’s black eyes had come from, and indeed, he had truly earned them as she suspected. If any man deserved a few fair swings at Caleb’s face, it was Mack.
King Ailbert showed up covered in his many pelts of animal fur and a huge greasy boar leg in his right fist. She could see the grease shining around his mouth and the large chunks of meat missing from the leg and knew her king well enough to know that he would not put down a good bit of meat for any occasion. “Ah,” he said, smiling and wiping his mouth with his left tunic sleeve. “My informants have arrived.”
Informants? Was Caleb really just working for the king this entire time? Could he not have trusted her with that bit of information before he ran off? It was not possible… Caleb was a blubbering fool and selfish. He would never put himself at risk for anyone other than himself… would he?
“Can you tell these fools what they have done?” Caleb groused. “I was much too close to the inner workings of that Rómánach fort before these imbeciles dragged me away. I tried to tell them myself, but none would listen.”
“You truly were not working with Mal?” Bryant asked, his dark brows raised so high that they nearly touched his hairline.
“Of course not! Why would I bloody do that?” he spat. “I am not like you!”
“Watch it, Mac Kenzie!” Mack roared. “We were working for the king! We never worked for Mal!”
“I thought you were deserters…” Caleb looked from Bryant and Mack to his king with an angry scowl. “This is too much, King Ailbert. You should have told me… told them. Now my plans are destroyed! At least they managed to set the ship on fire. I was still trying to find a way to stop it.”
Eoghann jerked out of Brennain’s grasp. “It was you who set the ship on fire? Not Caleb?”
“Aye, it was Bryant and Brennain,” Mack said with a wide grin.
Morna’s mouth gaped as she looked back and forth between the cluster of men in front of her house. Brennain set a ship on fire? Caleb was an informant? It did not change the fact that he had left without a word, or the fact that he slept with too many women, or the fact that he was an awful husband in general, or that she just did not love him… or that she was in love with another man who did not return her feelings. The red-haired lass stepped back a f
ew paces and clutched Brennain’s cloak around herself.
Feeling awful for the woman who looked more scared than confused, she stepped around the men and put a hand out. “You look frightened and freezing. My name is Morna. Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?” This beautiful woman may be Brennain’s new lover and part of Morna hated her for it, but she could not be cruel to the woman, especially when she looked so frightened. “What is your name?”
The woman stayed silent for a moment but Reaghan, for some reason, would not leave her side. “Her name is Marcella.”
The woman closed her eyes and a tear slipped down her cheek. “Nay. My name is Nola. They gave me a new name when they… they… enslaved me.”
Morna gasped just as Reaghan frowned and gripped the wee woman’s shoulder. The poor woman was shaking now and choking back tears. “’Tis all right now, Nola. You are safe. Come with me.” She put her hand out once more and Nola willingly took it, gripping the cloak with her other hand until her knuckles turned white. It was midday and though not balmy outside, it was certainly not cold enough for this woman to be shivering so. She must be very distraught. As a healer, it was instinctive for Morna to want to help.
Brennain quietly watched the women retreat into the house and Morna wondered if it made him uncomfortable for his new lover to be alone with Morna, not that she cared what he thought. She would not treat a woman poorly simply because Morna was in love with her man.
As Morna walked past Brennain, Glennis reached out for him with a sticky hand and grabbed his dark hair. “Pa… pa.”
Brennain smiled at Glennis and Morna’s heart thudded in her chest, wondering what he was thinking at that moment. His smile shifted into a frown and he shook his head. “Nay, wee lass. I am not your papa.”
Caleb stepped beside him and looked at Glennis. “Here I am, mo leanbh!”
“Pa… pa!” she squealed and reach for him. Morna hesitated, not wanting him to have anything to do with Glennis. Her instinct was to pull back, but she stopped herself. Caleb was her rightful father and though she suspected he was putting on a show for Brennain, acting as if he cared more than he truly did just to spite the man, she allowed him to hold his daughter… but only for a moment.
