To Ride A Púca

by Heather McCorkle

  As she reached into her boot for her dagger, the fiann sprang. Steel clashed around her when both Tyr and Irial engaged their attackers. A rider charged Neala. She clung to Dubh’s back as he reared and struck out. The offending horse shied away, dumping its rider into the ferns. Somehow Neala managed to hang on to both Dubh and the dagger.

  A gurgling sound drew her attention to where Tyr was fighting to her left. At the feet of his gelding a man flopped about, clutching his bleeding throat. The terrible noise was coming from him. Tyr was on the back of his gelding engaged in a fierce sword fight with the fiann leader. A touch of Neala’s leg guided Dubh out of the way. But he moved too fast, throwing her off balance. Her fingers tore free of his mane and she tumbled to the ground.

  Dagger still in hand, she jumped to her feet and moved out of the way of several sets of scrambling hooves. To avoid getting between Tyr and his mounted opponent, she stepped back. Her foot caught on something and she went sprawling. Instead of hitting the ground this time she landed on a body. A cry escaped her and she scrambled off it, hands and cloak now slick with blood. Her back slammed into the flanks of a horse. She tried to leap away but her head whipped back as if her hair was caught on something. It started to pull, sending pain shooting through her scalp. She wasn’t caught on something; someone had a hold of her.

  “Back off lad or I’ll break her neck,” a voice yelled from above her.

  The black and white gelding backed up eagerly when Tyr pulled back on its reins. The fury in the Dane’s eyes told Neala he wasn’t about to give up. He had stepped back right in between two more riders who both leveled swords at him. No matter how fast he was, there was no way he could block an attack from both of them. Neala’s throat felt like it was shrinking and her heart pounded as if it was trying to escape her chest. She couldn’t let him die because of her clumsiness.

  “Focus on their weapons Neala! Ye can do it!” Irial shouted.

  She had to fight the impulse to turn and look to Irial for support. There was no time for her to be needy. If she didn’t do what Irial said, then someone she cared about was going to die, probably herself as well.

  Neala stretched her arms out toward the men to either side of Tyr. Her power built within her as she focused on their swords. The pressure made her body feel like a damn that was on the verge of bursting. She let it go, guiding it down her arms and out her fingers. The dagger in her right hand glowed brightly.

  The green and blue energy shot out like lightning. It slammed into the two swords, sending them flying. It struck with so much force that it tore the man’s sword from him. His fingers were left bent at unnatural angles. Both men shied away.

  Reaching above her, Neala blindly slashed at the man who had a hold of her hair. The blade hit something solid. The tension pulling her head back released. She spun around and found herself less than a foot from a man on a horse. Blood poured from a deep gash on his left arm and he cursed colorfully. Anger filled his eyes as he drew his sword back in preparation to strike. But Neala was faster. She stabbed him in the thigh and leapt away before the sword could come down on her. Clutching his wounds, he turned his horse and tried to flee. Irial stood in his way.

  The strong pulse of Irial’s power told her that she could more than hold her own. But Tyr’s energy was harder to read and she had to know if he was all right. She turned to see two horses trotting away from him. Their riders lay at the feet of Tyr’s gelding. Tyr’s chest heaved with labored breaths and his sword dripped blood, but otherwise he looked fine. The horrified look in his wide eyes made Neala rethink that assessment.

  Though he wasn’t wounded, he definitely wasn’t fine. The source of his horror was all too clear. Those bright blue eyes were fixed on her. To be the cause of such a look stung more than she was prepared for.

  “Tyr, I…” her voice failed her.

  She was going to say she could explain, but really she couldn’t, not in any way that would make him feel better.

  “No time Neala. We’ve got to get out of here before that man brings back more,” Irial said.

  Neala turned toward the sound of her voice and the comforting feeling of her power. Her dark red hair had come loose from its braid and now flowed over her shoulders like blood. Sitting atop her horse with curved daggers still in hand, she looked like a warrior maiden out of one of Bren’s tales. Two bodies lay near her, one was still twitching. The third must have gotten away.

  Dubh’s big head pushed against Neala’s side, a comforting presence amidst so much death and chaotic energy. An argument was heavy upon her tongue but she swallowed it down. No matter how much she wanted to explain things to Tyr, she knew Irial was right. Now wasn’t the time and this wasn’t the place. Besides, she wasn’t going to argue with her Rector. She sheathed her dagger and jumped onto Dubh’s back, not caring if Tyr saw the small use of her power. It hardly mattered. He knew what she was and now he knew what she could do.

  23

  They parted ways with Irial at the edge of Neala’s land. For close to half a candlemark Neala had nothing to listen to but the bleating of sheep. The silence from Tyr became too much to bear.

  “We’re not monsters ye know. We’re just different,” she said.

  He turned to look at her and there was an acceptance in his eyes that she hadn’t expected. Until then she hadn’t realized how much his opinion meant to her. The realization disturbed her but not as much as it would have several days ago.

  “I know. We are,” he said as he returned his gaze to the field before them.

  “Don’t include yerself in that. Ye’re nothin’ like the others,” she told him.

  The way he fought to protect them today had more than proved that to her.

  A crooked smile void of any humor pulled up at the corner of his mouth. “Aren’t I? I killed just as readily as they would.”

  The bitter tone of his voice betrayed his pain and made Neala feel terrible. He didn’t want to be a warrior and he had killed for her.

  “No, no ye’re not. Ye did it to protect Irial and me and that makes you noble,” she said.

  She wanted so badly to make him stop his horse and force him to look at her. Tyr had one of those expressive faces that made it hard for him to hide what he was feeling. One look and she would know, and she really wanted to know. The need was so strong she almost reached out and grabbed his arm but she was afraid of his reaction.

  “I’m many things, but noble is not one of them,” he said.

  “Yes tis. Ye had to kill for us, I’m truly sorry for that,” she said, hating how her voice broke.

  His throat worked as he swallowed hard. He dropped his head and blond curls fell down and hid his face from her. The urge to see him became so strong that her power flared up and reached out. With a shake of his head, the black and white gelding Tyr rode upon stopped. The horse’s energy pushed against hers and she realized she had made him stop. Tyr didn’t seem to notice. He turned and gave her a look that made her heart thump harder. It was a mixture of love and fear, and it was all for her.

  “I’m not sorry at all. I’d do it again in a heartbeat,” he said.

  Had she heard him right over the sound of the blood rushing in her ears? For the first time in as long as she could remember she had no idea what to say, so she just stared at him like she was daft.

  He shook his head and looked down at his hands, but he didn’t turn away. “I know I’m not supposed to care about you but I do and I can’t help it. I don’t want to help it.”

  Tears burned Neala’s eyes and heat rushed to her cheeks. “I care about ye too,” she admitted in a whisper.

  She reached over to touch his arm and he jerked away like she was on fire. Regret filled his eyes. It couldn’t make up for his reaction. She felt like she’d been punched in the chest. The weight of his gaze was too much. Picking up the reins, she kicked Dubh into a trot and left Tyr behind.

  “Neala I’m sorry!” he called after her.

  She didn’t slow Dubh down
until there was a bit of distance and a few sheep between the two of them. The last thing she wanted was for the boy who was supposed to be her enemy see her cry over him.

  24

  Nightfall seemed to take forever to arrive. Getting out of the house wasn’t hard. Not even her ma argued when she had said she was going out. She hadn’t told them what happened but it had been impossible to hide the fact that she was shaken up. She was pretty sure Tyr wouldn’t even notice her absence. After returning and helping her get the sheep corralled he had gone into his room and hadn’t come back out.

  The night air was cool upon her skin and it felt good. Since the attack she hadn’t been able to center and regain complete control of her power and it was making her overheat. The clean scent of rain was thick upon the air and she found herself longing for its cleansing touch. She couldn’t stop thinking about how it had felt to stick her dagger in that man’s thigh. It had been easy, like an overripe melon, and it had felt good. If she’d had the chance she would have hurt him more. Anger and guilt warred within her, leaving her feeling dirty.

  When she rounded the barn she saw a figure at the edge of the forest, leaning against a tree. By both the posture and the light green and red energy that surrounded him, Neala knew it was Bren. Emotion surged up and tried to overwhelm her. She broke into a run, leaving her emotions behind. He met her halfway, lifted her off her feet, and crushed her to him. They clung to each other so tight that she couldn’t breathe.

  Bren drew back and took her face in his hands. He looked at her like she was the most precious thing in his world and it made her heart hurt. How could she have stayed so mad at him? If she had died today she would have never seen his handsome face again, would have never been able to touch him again.

  “Irial told me what happened. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to protect ye,” he said.

  “Ye can’t be with me every moment, and I can take care of meself,” she said, trying not to let the anger his words caused to enter her voice.

  She wanted to pull away, but she hesitated. She needed to be in his arms, to know if that’s what she wanted, who she wanted.

  “I should be takin’ care of ye and nothin’ should keep us apart,” he said as he traced a finger down the line of her jaw. Fire remained in the trail of his touch. She pressed her cheek against his hand. This was a fire she wanted to be burned by, wasn’t it? His words and his touch had the opposite effect though.

  “Irial told me ye fought bravely,” he said, voice filled with pride.

  His tone ignited the fire that his touch had set to smoldering. Finally, he was proud of her for what she could do. Power spread out through her body on a surge of desire. They pulled one another close at the same time. Neala’s eyes fluttered only half closed as their lips met. She wanted to see him as well as feel him. His lips had always been soft and gentle but now they were firm and eager. The sensation stirred up the fear she’d felt that night in the cave, but she fought against it. She reached beneath his tunic and touched the smooth, tight skin of his back.

  This was what she wanted, a lad from her Order, not a Dane. Despite her conviction, part of her didn’t believe it. She shoved that part down as deep as she could.

  As their lips and skin touched Bren’s power cascaded over her. It felt like tiny sparks that tried to sink in but instead slid off her skin like it was oiled. Just as breathtaking was the feeling of his tongue touching hers. One of his hands buried in her hair to cradle her head while the other slid up her tunic and touched her bare back. His hand was hot but it felt amazing. Her senses were being overloaded but she forced herself not to pull away.

  She stopped kissing him long enough to pull his tunic up and over his head. They were locked in an embrace again before it hit the ground. His fingers worked clumsily at the laces of her bodice causing her stomach to leap into her throat. It was hard to breathe around the fear.

  She wanted this, she wanted him. Didn’t she?

  “Neala!” Tyr’s frantic voice shattered the moment.

  She wasn’t sure if the voice was real or if it was her guilty subconscious until Bren stopped kissing her. A moment later he was torn from her and she was left grasping at nothing but air. The relief she felt made her want to throw up. So much for convincing herself Bren was who she wanted.

  “Get away from her you bastard!” Tyr cried.

  Fists started flying, forcing Neala back. Bren dodged Tyr’s attacks and wove easily around him. The Dane’s muscular build did him little good considering he couldn’t land a punch on Bren.

  “Tyr stop!” Neala yelled.

  He didn’t listen. She yelled again and again but still they fought. It was too much. All that built up power poured out of her and slammed into Tyr, knocking him down into the pine needles. Using what remained of her power to propel her faster, Neala jumped in front of Bren, both shielding him and holding him back.

  “No Tyr, please stop. It’s only Bren,” she said.

  Tyr leaped to his feet and strode up to her. His chest heaved and his eyes were filled with a mixture of anger and fear. This time it wasn’t fear of her though. It looked more like fear for her.

  “I thought he was trying to rape you. After what happened today. . . I thought. . .” his voice trailed off.

  Bren’s power spiked with anger. It was hot against Neala’s back. She reached back and placed a hand against his chest, both to calm him and stop him from going after Tyr again. After today she was in no mood to see bloodshed, especially when it was that of two people she cared about.

  “Bren would never do that,” she said.

  “I didn’t know he was your friend,” Tyr said as he looked down.

  By the way he avoided eye contact and couldn’t stop fidgeting it wasn’t hard to tell if he was lying. But if he had known, then he hadn’t wanted Bren to touch her. She didn’t want to think about what that meant but she couldn’t stop herself.

  “Liar,” Bren said.

  Tyr’s eyes snapped in Bren’s direction. The furious look in them gave Neala a chill.

  “Maybe. But at least I’m not trying to spoil a beautiful young woman who deserves better,” Tyr said.

  Shock cooled Neala’s power and drove it back to the center of her being. He had called her beautiful. Her. The girl who had endured teasing and beatings from the children of her village since she was little. Did he mean she deserved better than being spoiled outside of marriage, or did he mean she deserved better than Bren? Both options made her mad. Was he questioning her ability to defend herself, or her choice in men?

  “That’s funny, a Dane standin’ up for a woman’s virtue,” Bren said.

  That raked along her nerves but Neala did her best to ignore it. Before getting to know Tyr, she wouldn’t have believed it herself. She stepped forward and poked Tyr in the chest. His gaze shifted to her and there was pain in his eyes.

  “Bren wouldn’t hurt me or dishonor me without me consent,” she said.

  Tyr’s brow furrowed as the pain in his eyes intensified. He took her hand in his and cradled it as though it was fragile and precious. “Neither would I,” he whispered.

  His words dissolved the reply that had been waiting on her tongue. The heat from his huge hand around hers was stifling but not in a bad way. It surprised her that someone as big and powerful as him could have such a gentle touch.

  “I know ye wouldn’t,” she said.

  Power rolled around Neala and slammed into Tyr, pushing him back a step and tearing his hand from hers. Less than a heartbeat later Bren stood between her and Tyr, his volatile energy just as much a barrier as his half-naked body.

  “Keep yer hands off me lass,” Bren growled.

  Being referred to as someone’s property brought Neala’s power rushing to the surface in the wake of her fury.

  “I didn’t realize she belonged to you. Considering what happened today you should really take better care of your property,” Tyr said in a deadly calm tone.

  Hearing them both refer to
her like that pushed her over into full blown rage. She shoved Bren aside, using a touch of her power when he wouldn’t move. The power was enough to make him stumble back. Tyr laughed.

  “You can’t even control her. Now I see why you need someone else to protect her,” he said through a huge grin.

  Fury exploded through Neala. “I’m not anyone’s property and I don’t need anyone to protect me,” she yelled at them both.

  They stared at her with wide eyes and gaping mouths. She let out a frustrated cry and turned to storm off. She couldn’t care less if they beat each other senseless just then. It wouldn’t take much considering how daft they were being. Having two boys fight over her was nothing like she’d imagined it would be.

  Tears of frustration burned her eyes. After what he’d been trying to pull, how dare Bren treat her like his property. Anger seethed through her power like lightning. Hadn’t she made it clear that she wanted to mean more than that to him? Did he truly care about nothing more than possessing her? It was certainly starting to seem that way.

  25

  From her position high within her favorite tree, Neala could see the energy signatures of two riders approaching. She swallowed the bit of tart apple she’d been chewing and dropped the core, hand going for her sword hilt. With a second look, she realized the energy of the riders was familiar. More than that, it was comforting, like that of her parents’, only different.

  A quick glance back through the trees revealed her da still chopping wood and her ma working out back in the garden. They were oblivious to the approach of riders. It was a good thing they weren’t Danes. Letting out a sigh, Neala shook her head and jumped from the bench as the riders approached.

  For the fifty foot drop, she had to push down with her power, using it to cushion her landing. The red mare that Irial rode upon shook its head and came to an abrupt halt. Squealing, the brown mare that Ciara rode on crow-hopped sideways away from Neala. With a firm hand and a few colorful words in the old tongue, Ciara got the horse back under control. Eyes narrowing to slits, Ciara gave Neala a tight-lipped smile.