“I’d heard stories, and I grew worried.”
She put her hands on her hips. Angry, she was definitely angry now. “What sort of stories? From whom?”
Best to jump straight on the bull’s back. There was no use coddling her. “My source was a Fae girl. She told me stories of your husband’s past infidelities. She said he would do so again.”
The anger faded as she grabbed his arm. “Fae girl? Eolande, do you mean? Have you found her?”
He shook his head. “No, not Eolande. Another Fae girl. Did you hear what I just said?”
She dropped his arm and paced. Her pale léine was all he could perceive in the dim light, moving back and forth in the darkness. “Yes, yes, I know all about what Temuirr’s done in the past. He’s promised me he’s done with all that.”
Maelan snorted. “And you believed him?”
She stopped pacing and crossed her arms. “I did. I will, until and unless he proves otherwise. What else can I do, Grandfa? With me the size of a small moon?”
“Ah, but the moon should be so lovely, my granddaughter. I’ve missed you, and I should take you home. This is no place to have a baby, with no roof over your head. You might easily die in childbirth, Orlagh. I’d never forgive myself if you came to harm.”
She turned away from him. “Temuirr will care for me.”
He rolled his eyes, though the gesture was lost in the darkness. “How? How can he take care of you? Please, just come with me for now. You can come back once the babe is born and safe, aye?”
“No, Grandfa! I can’t just leave like that!”
He grabbed her arms. “You can and you will! Come now for your own good. Yours and the babe’s. ”
She struggled against him, crying out, but he quickly put his hand on her mouth. “Stop fighting me, Orlagh! Eógan, help me!”
His friend appeared from the gloom and grabbed Orlagh’s arms while Maelan kept his hand on her mouth. “This is for your own good, Orlagh. I can’t trust that man to take care of you, not in this state, not ever. The Fae said he’d cheat on you again. I will take care of you and the babe. Come on, Eógan, let’s go.”
Maelan tied a piece of rag around Orlagh’s mouth as she continued to struggle. Utromma joined them with a nod. Either she’d left a false trail or given them some story to keep them away. At this point, Maelan didn’t care which.
They moved south in the darkness, praying none of the bards had decent tracking skill. Maelan could exert his magical shield to keep their passage invisible, but he couldn’t mask their tracks beyond Utromma’s own skill. They’d never escape like this in a normal woods or field, but the Boireann betrayed few secrets. The very attribute which kept them from finding the bards for so long was their salvation now. They might yet succeed in this venture.
Orlagh continued to struggle and twist in his grip, but he held fast. Maelan hated himself for doing this, but he convinced himself his actions were essential for Orlagh’s future. Children seldom realized what was best for them, and despite her age and her current condition, she remained a child in his heart. The man was a cheater and a wastrel. Maelan wouldn’t allow his great-grandchild to be destroyed by such a man.
* * *
Orlagh was so tired of struggling. Her arms ached where her grandfather gripped her. Her feet became just lumps of throbbing pain at this point. She needed to scream, to cry, to rip someone’s eyes out for the injustice of it all.
How could Grandfa do this to her? How could he tear her away from her lawfully wedded husband? Just as they were reconciled, too. It was so patently unfair.
They marched on through the night. Orlagh tried to pull away from her grandfather’s strong grip, but to no avail. She’d never be a match for him, even if she weren’t so pregnant. She barely kept from stumbling in the dark on rocks which loomed up from the darkness. Traveling thus at night with no lantern to guide them was stupid. What if she were to fall and injure the baby? Then her grandfather would be sorry.
She kept scanning the dim silhouette of hills, searching for her husband, or maybe Eolande would find them. Where had her friend gone, after all? She’d been so silent. Orlagh hoped she found somewhere safe and warm. Orlagh wished she were somewhere safe, as well, like Temuirr’s warm arms. Tears fell down her cheeks unchecked at the thought of her husband. Philanderer or not, he was vowed to her, and she carried his child. They were forever bonded, and she would find him again, despite her grandfather.
Several hours later, they stopped. They climbed a mighty hill and passed through several rings of trees before the rock face opened into a small cave. At least, the mouth of the cave was small. After Utromma removed Orlagh’s gag, she threw the warrior woman a grateful glance. They ducked inside, and the sullen glow of the banked fire revealed an enormous cavern.
As Utromma stirred the fire into brightness, the glow revealed a large room with several alcoves and passages. Several long pillars dripped from the ceiling. A small waterfall trickled in one corner. Orlagh gasped in wonder. What a magnificent place!
Eógan patted her on the shoulder. “Amazing, isn’t it? Utromma found it a couple moons ago, exploring while we waited for Maelan to return. Some passages go back for leagues. A couple alcoves have piles of massive bones in them. I’m thinking dragons.” He nodded solemnly.
Utromma snorted. “Not dragons. No long tail bones. Maybe giant dogs of some sort.”
“That’s one hell of a dog! The one skull was as big as my torso!”
Maelan said, “Enough, both of you. Did you grab my pack before you escaped?”
Eógan nodded and swung the large pack off his back. “And glad I am to shed the blasted thing! Next time we kidnap your granddaughter, you carry your own gear, aye?”
Orlagh decided to make her statement. “There won’t be a next time! You are to turn around and escort me back to my husband. Immediately! You have no right, no right whatsoever, to take me from him. You’ve no charge over me. I was emancipated even before I was married!”
“A pagan wedding, to a wastrel with dozens of lovers.”
She stomped her foot, but her bare flesh hurt on the hard stone. She hid her wince of pain. “I don’t care what he did before, Grandfa! He’s my husband and the father of my baby. I love him, and I want to be with him. Now take me back!”
Maelan unpacked his bag, setting up his tent within an alcove of the cave. “He’ll cheat on you again, Orlagh! The Fae knew. She told me. I wouldn’t have you hurt, nor your babe.”
“Oh, but you’re perfectly fine with hurting me yourself? And kidnapping me?”
He turned to her, arms crossed. “This is not a kidnapping. This is a rescue. Now, sit down, shut up, and eat. You’re bound to be tired after our journey.”
With these final words, he took her arm and led her to a low shelf of rock. He sat and pulled her close. He continued in a softer tone. “Orlagh, my duty is to care for you. I love you more than anyone in the world, save your own parents. Trust me when I tell you, this is for your own good. I will take care of you, and your babe.”
She refused to speak, crossed her arms and pouted. His words made sense, but her heart refused to comply. Orlagh’s grandfather could be stubborn, but so could she. He had more practice, but she had more stamina. They’d see who won this fight.
Eógan exchanged a glance with Utromma. They’d finished setting up their tent and entered together, shutting the flap with several ties. Orlagh continued to pout.
With a sigh, her grandfather rose and rifled through his pack. He brought out some dried fish and a loaf of bread, a waterskin, and some cheese. He left these next to her on the stone. Then he put his hands on her shoulders, but she wouldn’t look up.
“You may have my tent. I’ll sleep in another alcove. Eat and drink, rest when you are tired, my dear. Tomorrow is a new day.”
He picked up a roll of furs and found an alcove to sleep in. Orlagh shivered in her spot, wishing for a cloak. She eyed the food next to her and finally unfroze enough to pick at the bre
ad, good barley bread, not too stale. She ate some of the cheese and gnawed on a piece of fish. The water was cool and sweet.
She realized little good would come of sitting and pouting when no one was watching, so she crawled into the tent, and pulled out the sleeping fur. She found another alcove to bed down in. She’d be damned if she would sleep under her grandfather’s roof, even if that roof was a tent, after he’d done her such a disservice.
After a few moments of trying to find a comfortable spot, she threw off the furs and pulled herself to her feet, using the cave wall as support. She bent and retrieved one fur and wrapped herself tightly. She found a pair of her grandfather’s shoes and put them on, despite their large size.
Grabbing a bowl, she scooped up some of the burning peat, forming a small glowing lamp.
Once outside, she scanned the ground. Which way had they come from? It must be from the north; that path looked familiar.
Only a few steps later, she slipped. The ground became icy here and mostly rock. Her grandfather’s large shoes slipped and shifted, making balance difficult. The glow from her makeshift lantern was insufficient to see the ground in front of her. She couldn’t see any of their earlier tracks on the rocks, and the snow still fell lightly. The air smelled of snow. She wished she’d thought to bring a walking stick.
Orlagh glanced up at the almost full moon peeking through the clouds. The soft, silver light calmed her. She’d always loved the moon. As a child, her grandmother, Liadan, had taught her to tell her secrets to the moon. She’d forgotten such things as she grew older. Perhaps it would help.
She found a place to sit, a small rocky outcropping next to some scrubby bare bushes. It felt freezing cold, but she settled and gazed up at the shining lady of midnight. The moon greeted her as an old friend, and Orlagh smiled.
In the past, she’d never told her secrets out loud. She’d never really formed words in her mind, just impressions of the day, her fears, her hopes, and her dreams. The confessions helped to solve puzzles and concerns. She reflected upon her mad departure from Ceann-Coradh, her wooing of Temuirr, and her grandfather’s betrayal. As she brooded on the events of the last cycle of seasons, one thing finally became clear. Her grandfather didn’t see himself as a betrayer, but as a protector.
Orlagh also came to the conclusion she’d likely kill herself and her babe trying to find her husband. Or she might return to the cave and trust him to find her. Those were really the only two choices.
Cursing under her breath, Orlagh stomped back to the cave. She couldn’t risk falling or getting lost in the night, not in her condition. Sullenly, she shook off the shoes and curled back into the alcove.
Lying on her right side grew uncomfortable, and the left side was worse. Lying on her stomach became impossible in her current condition. Finally, she tried sleeping on her back, her huge belly pushing up in the air like a full-bellied sail. She had more difficulty breathing this way, but at least her back didn’t ache.
She finally fell asleep.
Her dreams grew troubled. Orlagh ran through the woods, chased by some white creature. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get a good look at her pursuer. Sometimes it appeared as a wolf, sometimes as a giant cat. Once it even became a white dragon. Whatever the creature’s true form, it had jagged, red-stained teeth and black eyes. It chased her through the trees, the bracken, and the river. Branches tore her skirts to ribbons and snagged her hair. She was enormous with child, unable to run quickly, and the thing got closer to her with each step.
Orlagh woke to the echo of her own shrieks.
She sat up, unsure of where she was. The room looked black as ink and full of unfamiliar sounds. The trickle of the waterfall brought her memory of the night before, and rage replaced fear.
She must not have screamed aloud, as no one else stirred. Laboriously getting to her feet, she found the corner meant for relieving herself. She sighed with pleasure once her bladder was drained. That was one thing she detested about being so pregnant; the constant need to pee.
Walking to the entrance, she peered out, only to find no hint of the dawn. With a sigh, she returned to her alcove, tripping a few times on the rough stone floor. It still held a trace of her body warmth. She cuddled into the spot and tried to sleep again.
Would Temuirr be searching for her? He must be. She was carrying his child, after all. She was his wedded wife. On the other hand, if the whole thing had truly been a sham, this would be a convenient excuse to rid himself of an unwanted bride.
Her sobs echoed on the cavern walls and beat against her ears.
She must have slept for she opened her eyes to bright sunlight streaming in through the cave mouth. Her grandfather built up the fire while his companions had disappeared. She grunted and pulled herself to her feet.
She sat near the firepit without a word. Her grandfather handed her a bowl of porridge, still steaming from the pot. Taking it, she held her hands around the wooden bowl in warm comfort before she took a spoonful. It was flavored with honey, her favorite. He had remembered.
“Now what, Grandfa?”
“Hmm? What was that, Orlagh?”
“You’ve kidnapped me and held me against my will. What will you do with me now?”
He frowned, chewing on his own spoonful of porridge. “That depends entirely on you.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Does it, now? Well, I wish to be returned to my family. You know, the one I married into? Immediately, if not sooner.”
“I’m afraid that’s not one of the options, Orlagh. I can bring you back to Ceann-Coradh if you give me your vow to remain there. If not, I must keep you here.”
Orlagh scowled at her grandfather. “Those are not acceptable options, Grandfa, and well you know it. What happened to your precious honor? This goes against everything you’ve ever stood for!”
He furrowed his brow and paced several times before answering. “I’m not happy about the situation, Orlagh, that’s true enough. However, I must keep your best interests, and the interests of your child, in mind. He will not and cannot provide for you, so I must step in. Can you not understand this is true?”
“The only thing I can understand that is true is your perfidy. You’ve committed a crime, Grandfa.”
He stopped pacing and looked at her with sad eyes. He suddenly looked much older than he ever had before. “It hurts me to hear you say so, Orlagh.”
“Good. It’s meant to. I will not give you any such promise of good behavior and will do my best to return to Temuirr given first chance. That you have my vow on.”
Suddenly, she was no longer hungry. She placed the half-empty bowl on the ground, stood, and wrapped herself in her blanket. She chose a tunnel and walked.
“Orlagh, stop! It may not be safe!”
She refused to listen. She picked her way through several small dips, keeping her hand on the slick cave wall. She skirted two tall columns and ducked under several others dripping from the ceiling. She spied a pile of bones, perhaps the very ones Eógan and Utromma spoke of the night before.
“Orlagh, please at least wait for Utromma! She knows these caverns better than anyone!”
She was about to turn to yell at her grandfather when her foot slipped, and she fell hard on her side. She cried out, and her grandfather was by her side in an instant.
“No, get away from me! I don’t want you touching me!”
“Orlagh, hush. I’m taking you back to the main cavern. You might have hurt something. At least think of the babe, aye?”
His words silenced her. Both her hip and her lower back ached. Her grandfather hefted her and with slow, deliberate steps, carried her back to the main cave.
Utromma had returned from hunting, with four freshly killed rabbits. She hopped to help Orlagh to her grandfather’s tent. “What happened? Are you hurt?”
“I just slipped. I’ll be fine.”
The woman shook her head and shooed her grandfather out. “I’ll attend her, but you must leave. I must ask a
bout the pregnancy, and that’s not information a man should hear.”
Her grandfather hastily retreated and greeted Eógan outside the tent.
Utromma ran her hands over Orlagh’s already bruising hip. “What possessed you to go exploring in your state, child? There are some dangerous places in any cave, and this one in particular.”
“I was getting away from Grandfa. Oh! That hurt.”
“Hmm. Yes, well, lie on your back for me. Let me feel the babe.”
Orlagh complied while Utromma poked and prodded. She pressed around the baby, up under her belly, as well as along her sides and hips. Orlagh suppressed a giggle at the tickling.
“Does it hurt when I press here?”
“No, but it aches a bit in my back.”
“Your lower back or middle?”
“Lower.” It was a persistent throb. Orlagh didn’t think that boded well, and evidently, neither did Utromma.
The warrior woman sat up, crossing her arms. “I’ve helped deliver children before, but I’m no trained midwife or hedgewitch. You’ll want one to look at you, to make certain you’ve not damaged your babe with your foolish adventure. I’ll fetch one from the village.”
“Utromma, wait! Fetch Yana. She’s skilled in herblore. She can help.”
She shook her head. “Absolutely not. You’re to have no contact with them at your grandfather’s insistence.”
“Which is more important; my grandfather’s wishes, or my baby’s health?”
The warrior woman pressed her lips together in a joyless smile. “Luckily, I needn’t choose. There’s an excellent hedgewitch in the next town. I won’t be long.”
Utromma left, and Orlagh cursed. That would have been too easy, of course, but she’d had to try.
Orlagh didn’t want to get up and face her grandfather, so she lay in the tent, bored to tears. To occupy herself, she took a mental inventory of the items her grandfather had in the tent. She’d been under the impression Utromma and Eógan had been there for quite a while, but there was little in the tent to indicate a long visit. His traveling mug, a waterskin, sleeping furs, some weapons. That was about it, except for the little pouch he usually wore on his belt. It was tucked in next to his waterskin.
Misfortune of Song: Druid's Brooch Series: #5 Page 22
