by Mia Pride
“Better Eoghann than me,” Reaghan whispered to Brennain, and he could not help but grunt in amusement. It was true. Flynn held on to so much anger about what happened to Maggie that Brennain truly hoped his brother could move on after this battle and forgive Reaghan for the role he had had to play in the previous battle with Mal. Reaghan was a good companion and an honorable warrior. He had also become quite close to Reaghan, and Brennain hoped his friend and his brother could move forward after this war. Brennain, more than anything, wanted peace and contentment in his life.
The ships were appearing on the horizon now as the Rómánach approached from the west and Mal’s men came from the south. Soon, they would all come together in a battle that would save all Ériu or leave her to the greedy hands of tyrannical foreigners who would not hesitate to lay waste to every village they passed. Brennain and his fellow warriors were all that stood between the approaching Rómánach and the rest of their world.
Chapter Sixteen
Sweat dripped down Brennain’s face as he watched the ships in the distance, slowly coming into view like dark specters of doom from the Underworld. It was a brisk day and the wind cooled his bare flesh, but so much depended on the success of their army and this plan to chase the Rómánach off once and for all. If they failed, they would be thrust into battle on both sides. As Tuathal took half the army with him to fight off Mal, the rest stayed here upon the shore, ready to die if necessary to save their land and people.
Thoughts of Morna and Glennis floated through his mind but he shook his head to erase their sweet visages. He had to focus on the army slowly drifting toward him, not the lassies awaiting him at home. He would have a lifetime to be with them, but only if they were not defeated. Losing was never an option, but as Brennain swiped a hand across his brow, smearing his blue paint, he knew that not every outcome in life could be in his hands.
“Ready men?” his Uncle Liam shouted from beside him, and Brennain narrowed his eyes at their enemy ships. They looked so small in the distance but a swarm of them filled the horizon, plenty enough to carry hundreds of men.
“AYE!” the army yelled, rumbling the world around them. Brennain hollered as well, raising his sword in the air and clearing his mind of all other thoughts. This was war and there was no room for second-guessing himself. He had trained his entire life, fought in many battles and won. He would do the same today or die trying.
“They want our land! They want to enslave our children and rape our women! They want to burn our villages and build their own! They want to replace our gods, forsaking them forever. Will we allow this?” Liam shouted, and faced his men.
“Nay!” Brennain roared in unison with the other men.
“They think we are savages! Let them fear us! We are larger, stronger, fearless warriors and we will die before we let these foreign men have our land!”
“Aye!” Everyone shouted again, banging swords on heavy shields and raising weapons in the air for the approaching army to see. Their chant grew louder and more determined and Brennain’s chest clenched with pride and love for his people and his land. This was Ériu. It belonged to the people of Ériu and nobody else. Let the Rómánach take over the rest of the world, but they could not have this island.
The roar became deafening as it rang out into the sky and metal weapons clashed with wooden shields. More sweat trickled down Brennain’s face but he did not stop to wipe it away this time as he continued to shout with all his might, screaming at his enemy from a distance, praying their determination to protect what was theirs could be felt across the sea.
As the ships sailed closer, the efforts of hundreds of men grew louder. Some men wore helms, the rest had spiked wild hair. Archers lined the shore with arrows nocked and ready to fly at Liam’s command. Brennain could just start to make out the clusters of men on the ships, their armor gleaming in the sunlight, their red cloaks whipping in the wind. Shiny helms sat upon their heads and Brennain knew that while the Rómánach armor lent them protection, their nudity lent them agility. The Picts had done this and succeeded. He only prayed they would as well. If Brennain could see those men, certainly the men could see them, as well. Would it matter? Did these men want Ériu enough to face a battle with the native savages? Did they not have enough land and resources already?
A signal went up from the largest ship just as it started to pull away to the south. Slowly, before Brennain’s eyes, he watched with amazement as every ship, one by one, followed and turned tail, veering away from the shore and back out to sea.
“They are retreating!” an archer yelled from the front line.
“Hold your positions. Keep your weapons steady! It may be a ploy to catch us off guard!” Liam shouted, and narrowed his eyes. Brennain could not help the feeling of hope in his chest. Could it be true? Had they successfully scared them away? It seemed too easy…
The men continued to shout their war cries, but quickly those shouts became cheers of pride and excitement when it was clear the cowards had turned tail for good. The ships faded back into the horizon, sailing away from Ériu.
“It worked!” Brennain heard Bryant shout as he shook Mack wildly by the shoulders. “Ye clever wee man! It worked!”
Mack pushed Bryant away. “Who ye calling wee?” Mack said, but a wry smile lifted on his face and all the men began to cheer and crowd around Mack with shouts of appreciation. His time at the Rómánach camp and his quiet observations had paid off and saved Ériu for now, but another army still approached.
“It is not time to celebrate yet, lads!” Brocc shouted, and gained everyone’s attention as he pointed to the south. “We have another enemy to defeat and they will not scare as easily, for they are our own brothers who have betrayed us. ‘Tis time to join Tuathal and come together as one. Today, we end Mal Mac Rochride’s campaign for the High Throne once and for all!”
Brennain nodded at his father with pride as hundreds of men cheered. Some men mounted horses, others ran on foot, but all of them were more than happy to be done with the Rómánach and on their way to the true High King’s side. A lightness lifted Brennain’s chest as he marched toward the rest of the army. No matter the outcome, they had just achieved the hardest victory with the smallest effort. But he knew Mal would not back down as easily. Nay, this would be a battle to the death for all and he could only pray that he and his men returned safely to Ráth Mór.
Despite his best efforts, blonde hair and blue eyes filled his vision, reminding him why he fought today. He had a beautiful woman awaiting him and he fully intended on making it back to her in one piece, bollocks and all.
* * * *
“Stop pacing. You are supposed to be the calm one!” Morna mumbled, as she watched Elwynna clutch her red skirt and walk back and forth across Brennain’s home over and over. It seemed all the women in the village had tried their best to continue with their basic daily routines and chores. Anything to keep their minds off the fact that the men they loved were now near the coast, fending off two enemy armies from different directions. The men were far enough away from Ráth Mór’s walls to lessen any immediate danger to the village inhabitants, but if the warriors of Ériu failed, it would be only hours before their gates were thrust open by the enemy.
“My husband is out there right now, fighting my father,” Elwynna gasped for breath and rubbed her growing belly. “I will lose either my husband or my father today.”
Clarice walked over and grabbed Elwynna’s shoulders. “I am so sorry. I cannot imagine how that feels. Though your father was never gentle to you, he is still your blood.”
“Aye, he was blinded by power once Elim was defeated by Tuathal, bent on revenge and the need to gain his own title, even if it meant using me to get there. But when I was a wee lass… well, he was not always this way. I suppose it was hard to watch him turn into what he has. I know he is the cause of all of this and may the gods forgive me, but I do hope Tuathal strikes him down. How many more days must I sleep with one eye open, wondering if every ne
w arrival into Ráth Mór is another man sent to steal me away, kill my husband in his sleep, and marry me off to his chosen champion?” Elwynna lowered her head and wiped a tear away. “I cannot bear it anymore. I just need this battle done.”
Morna frowned as she watched her new friend. She felt the same fear deep in her gut for Brennain, but at least she had no blood relatives fighting on the other side, much less the main cause of such a battle. Her father would not stop until he was High King and had Elwynna married off to his choice of man. The fact that she fell in love and chose her own husband, fleeing his side, seemed to be a great strike against the man’s enormous ego. Why could men not simply allow women their own freedom to choose who to love and how to live? Why did they believe they should control women simply because they could?
Brennain was not like those men. Aye, he stole her away, making the choice for her and it had angered her fiercely in the beginning, but she knew now that the choice had been made long ago by her heart. She simply had lacked the courage to do what she wished. Brennain knew in his heart, just as she did, that they were meant to be, and he took the opportunity to do something about it. She could no longer feel anything but gratitude for his actions. And though for a brief moment she feared she would be forced to return with Caleb, Brennain had made certain to protect her once again.
It seemed he always showed up just in time, just when she needed him most. Now all she could do was steady her shaking hands and focus on boiling more linens. Men would be injured. She, Maggie, and Elwynna had been slaving all day to make more bandages, salves, and thread for stitching. Una had a plethora of rare herbs which would be very beneficial for fighting off fevers and infections and to reduce swelling or pain.
Her mother held Glennis tightly, yet still refused to speak to Morna for attempting to leave her behind. Despite Morna’s more than rational explanation that she had done so for her mother’s safety and well-being, her mother’s stubborn pride refused to let it go. As much as Morna wished to sit quietly and make amends with her mother, now was not the time. She had much to do as one of the healers of Ráth Mór. She would simply need to let her mother come to her senses on her own or deal with it at another time.
While the four of them worked together to prepare for the aftermath, the rest of Brennain’s female family worked to prepare food, clean water, and places to lay wounded warriors, once they arrived. How she prayed Brennain would not be amongst the wounded. A shudder ran down her spine as she thought of him being amongst the dead. Nay. She would not allow it. The gods would not take him away from her. Not on this day.
“Two in this room will face the loss of familial blood,” Brennain’s cousin Alyson whispered beside her. It seemed as if she was speaking to herself, yet the sudden proclamation startled her and caused Morna to gasp and placed her hands over her heart in shock.
“I’m sorry?” Morna leaned in and whispered with a frown.
Alyson looked as if she were just coming out of a daze as she placed both hands on her temples and shook her head. “Och, Morna. I am sorry. I did not mean to frighten you. I have the gift of Sight. Visions come to me so quickly sometimes and I tend to say things that frighten people. When I first met Freyne a few years back, at the merest touch of his hand, I clearly saw our future. It does not always work that way. I cannot choose what I see, nor when I see it. But I have seen this. Two people in this room will face loss. Only, I cannot see who.”
Morna looked at Alyson’s deep blue eyes, the same shade as her father, Liam’s. She was intense with a pained look on her face and Morna felt sorry for the woman. Being able to know such things must be a terrible burden. Alyson cleared her features and forced a smile before turning away, leaving a lingering foreboding deep in Morna’s bones. Her stomach roiled, and she bit her lower lip to hide her pain. To know such things was pure torture. She wanted not a single man to perish, but knowing two would… mayhap Brennain, left her bereft and flooded with anxiety so intense that her insides twisted in agony.
Hours passed painfully slow, and still no men arrived. She knew they were close to the coast, which was several hours away on foot, but an entire day had passed and the women at Ráth Mór had no more they could do to prepare for the arrival of the warriors.
Fires were lit, and meals were eaten in silence. There was no laughter or joy in tonight’s conversations, but a strong comradery and an unbreakable spirit seemed to linger as each woman awaited the return of her loved ones.
“Where Papa?” Glennis fussed and shifted in Morna’s arms as she stared into the fire blazing outside. The stars in the night sky reminded Morna of the time not so long ago when she had lain beside Brennain as he told her about the gods in the sky, the stars twinkling high above. When he arrived, she would lay with him beneath the stars once more. He would not be one of the men to die. Though her heart ached and her stomach protested, she tried to keep her mind focused. He would return. But a few would not and there could be no comfort in that.
“He will be back soon, mo leanbh,” Morna soothed. She had stopped correcting Glennis’s insistence that Brennain was her papa. After all, he would be soon enough.
“Ye were goin’ to leave me.”
Morna’s heart sped up as her mother finally broke the silence between them. With a deep sigh, she turned to look at her mother and saw true sorrow in her gray eyes. “Aye, Mama. I was. You are safe here. Caleb is a lout and a brute and wished to take me and Glennis far away where nobody could find us… then he was going to abandon us once more. It would not have been a safe journey for any of us. Least of all you. I love you, Mama. Try to understand that I wanted you to finally have some peace in this life.”
“Ye are a mother,” Elsbeth said quietly, and shook her head.
“Aye. I am. That is why I had to leave. To stay with her and keep her safe,” Morna insisted.
“And what about when she is a grown woman, Morna? Will ye allow her to be without ye? Or would ye follow her?”
“I would go anywhere Glennis went. You know that.” Morna suddenly felt guilt race through her and clutch at her stomach. She knew exactly what her mother was trying to say.
“Ye are my daughter. Mo leanbh. Just as you follow Glennis, I follow ye. How can ye think I would have found any peace here without ye? Without wee Glennis? My peace… my heart… lies wherever ye do, child.”
A tear ran down Morna’s cheek and a deep sob escaped her throat. All the repressed emotions she had been holding in flooded her. “Och… I am sorry, Mama. I was so determined to take care of you that I took away your right to care for me.”
“Aye. Ye did.” Elsbeth’s arms came around Morna as they sat on a log before the fire and stared into its dancing red and orange flames. Glennis wrapped her arms around Elsbeth’s neck and her mother gave a low rumble of laughter. “Do not ever think to make up my mind for me again, lass.”
Morna nodded and rested her head against her mother’s comforting shoulder. “Aye. I promise, Mama.”
Silently, they sat like that for what felt like an eternity, the other female members of Brennain’s family sitting around the other logs in silence. Eventually, Glennis fell asleep in her arms and Morna found herself slowly scooting down the log so her back rested against its hard bark as she closed her eyes. She did not care if they slept against the earth tonight. Brennain did as well, somewhere out there, and she would not be comfortable in a bed while he fought to save his people.
Her eyes slid shut and her arms gripped Glennis tightly as she allowed her body to get what little rest her mind would permit. She was not certain how long she’d slept, but she was jolted out of her sleep by someone shaking her shoulder.
Morna groaned at the pain in her back. When she opened her eyes, she noticed a blanket draped over her and Glennis and a pair of green eyes staring down at her with concern.
“My darling lass. You cannot sleep out here.” It was Una, and her frown told Morna that Brennain had not yet returned.
“I was very tired. If Brennain
is out there fighting for us, I can handle sleeping out here and awaiting him. ‘Tis a warm enough night.”
“Brennain would be angry if he knew I left you and Glennis out here. He is a warrior. He is used to sleeping beneath the stars, but he would choose a warm bed if he could. I expect the same of you. Come.” Una helped Morna to her feet and she shifted her sleeping daughter in her arms. “There are still a few more hours left of the night. Come inside and sleep in your own bed, where Brennain would expect you to be.”
“The men have not arrived yet?” Morna asked weakly, as she followed Una back to the house.
Una shook her head. “Nay. It has not been terribly long, not where battles are concerned. However, I understand the agony of waiting all too well. Remember that I have a husband, two sons, two brothers by marriage, and five nephews out there fighting. Mayhap we should keep each other company.”
A wave of guilt flooded Morna. She had been so caught up in her own pitiful sorrow that she neglected to realize that many women in this village had entire families out there fighting for them. If they could be strong and brave, then she must try, as well. With a hard swallow and a nod, Morna followed Una into the house and gently laid Glennis down, but there would be no more sleep for her tonight. Her mind was turned on once more and racing with thoughts.
“Give me something to do. Please, or I shall go mad.”
Una sighed and grabbed Morna’s hands. “I would rather be out there fighting than back here waiting to see if every man I love returns to me. War is foul and destroys lands and spills blood. I cannot stomach it, Morna, but it is our reality. Mal brought this fight to us time and again. Our men will finish it and they will return. I do believe that.”
Alyson’s words haunted Morna once more. Two men would die who were family. Morna wished she had never been within earshot when Alyson had that vision. She had been distraught enough, but now she could hardly control the shaking in her hands or prevent her knees from buckling.
