Love's Battle (True Blue Trilogy)

by Angela Hayes

  Woodenly the lass nodded her acceptance. To fight the inevitable would be futile. There were no options left for her. No options, save one.

  Turning, Riona removed her cloak from its peg pausing as emotion swamped over her. She spoke quickly lest her fragile hold on her tears break and embarrass her further. “We dinna have much time left. I wish to spend every moment I can with him. Will you deny me that?”

  Oh how Riona hated feeling the catch in her throat, hated hearing the weakness in her voice. Somehow it made it all too real.

  “Will you be able to let him go when the time comes?” Grandmother asked softly.

  “I have been given no other choice.” Riona answered simply.

  Hearing her granddaughter’s voice once strong, catch on a sob, the crone’s own heart began to break. She could practically see the spirit leaving the child’s body. The fight, gone from her, left naught but a cold lump in her chest. It wasn’t an appealing sight to see a warrior brought so low in defeat.

  “Go child with my blessing. Pack as much love into your last days together as you can. I’ll be here when you return.”

  With that the golden haired girl fled into the night, the cold wind her escort.

  Exhausted Grandmother settled back in the chair at the table, knowing without a doubt that she would keep her promise. She would be there to help Riona pick up the pieces of her shattered life when she returned. Together they would face any consequences that may come to light. Much as she had with her own daughter eighteen years ago.

  One Week Later

  The sun that had risen bright and pure on the morning of the spring solstice had long been extinguished

  The one day of the year when day and night were equal in their power, it is said to have magical properties. As such it was during the last hour of that very same day that the man who was destined to marry another learned what true love really was.

  Facing the woman who held his heart in the palm of her hand, Cinaed stood with her in the heart of a ring of fire. Bathed in glowing flames, the eyes of the dark haired warrior reflected all the wonder he felt for the young maid; his heart fair to bursting with the enormity of it all. The tears Cinaed saw in Riona’s shimmering eyes rivaled that of the purest diamond; their dazzling glint mirroring the firelight cleaved his already broken heart in two.

  It was the heart of the man who was destined to be Scotland’s first king.

  In a nearby tree, a white crow sat and waited. Overhead the stars in the night sky looked down on the mountain top precipice, careless observers to the couple’s plight.

  “Cinaed,” The fair haired Riona began, the anguish of what she must do filling her body with untold pain.

  Her love for him was such that she willingly sacrificed the future of what they could never be in favor of the generations that looked to him for their very existence. “You are destined for a great many things in this life. I love you with all that I am, but your destiny does not lie with me by your side. You are to be king Cinaed, our righ! You need a proper wife, one who can be queen at your side.”

  “Aye beautiful Riona, say the words and ya shall be my queen.”

  “Nay,” She corrected gently, a smile ghosting around her rose colored lips. “No matter how hard I wish it, I canna be your queen.”

  The grass sighed softly under her bare feet as she moved to be closer to him. Lovingly Riona cupped her hands around the face of the one she sees even when her eyes are closed in slumber. She wanted to commit to memory everything she cherished most about the handsome young warrior. Starting with the smooth feel of his skin, the way it felt under her hand, like the softest of silks.

  She wanted to remember forever the way the flames from the small camp fire bathed his face in both light and shadow turning his raven hair blue in its glow. The way his green eyes vivid with their intensity looked at her, as if she was the most wonderful thing he’d ever seen.

  And as she does, the young girl denies her heart what it yearns for most. Choosing to hold in her heart the memories of their last night together instead of the man they revolved around. There could be no other way. It was asking too much of her soul to live the rest of her life as his mistress while another warmed his bed as wife.

  Riona was selfish enough to want all of Cinaed or nothing at all and practical enough to know the number of lives that would be snuffed out the by the blade of the warriors sword should she come between the alliance his marriage would bring.

  In the coming years her life would go on without him, Riona wanted the comfort remembering would offer. Like the shape of his nose- broken by his cousin when they were children. The softness of his lips- the equal of any rose petal. The puckered texture of the scar that ran across his left shoulder- his first scar received in battle. She wanted to remember the long line of healing flesh down his right leg- a training mishap- it was what had brought them together. And most importantly, Riona wanted to feel of his calloused work roughened hands as they touched her body when she finally gave him her innocence.

  “They call you ‘The Conqueror, An Ferbasach’. Oh love, I dinna have what you or our country needs most, but she does.”

  They both knew she was speaking of the one his father intended for him to take as bride on the morrow. A bride descended from the first of the royals who rule this world in which they live. A world Riona, a bastard maiden, who carried the tainted blood of slaves and serfs knew nothing about and had no place in. A woman who unlike herself carried blood lines as pure and unsullied as his.

  Riona was not blind to the consequences of the selfish action she was talking, she needed to have a small part of him with her when he was gone. In fact, she prayed for it every second. Wished for it on every night star she could see. It wouldn’t completely banish the pain that would follow in the wake of their separation, but it would make it bearable.

  “She will make you a fine queen and give you the sons that you deserve. My love for you Cinaed is great enough that I am willing to give you what you need most so that you can be what we in Scotland need.” Riona declared fiercely. “All I ask is for this night, the night before your vows and no other. Stay and love me Cinaed.”

  Even as his heart refused to heed her plea, his mind knew she was right. He didn’t want to give her up and so he would give in; unable to refuse any request that she might ask of him.

  “How can I say nay? Riona you make me weak as a babe and still I feel I am more than king in your arms. Please change your mind.” Cinaed begged for the last time, knowing that it was feeble to do so in the first place. “Please say you’ll be my queen. Be my wife.”

  Riona’s heart squeezed at his words, a clinching pain that nearly drove her to her knees. Oh how she longed to be his forever, joined as husband and wife, living the rest of their lives together, ignoring all but her own self-interests to make it happen. But she couldn’t. It wasn’t what their county or its people needed. Cinaed knew that just as well as she did, but when love is great the mind tends to turns a blind eye to the needs of other so that the heart might find peace.

  Holding tight to her control, refusing to let her tears fall, Riona denied Cinaed for the final time.

  “I canna. You know my place is not with you as queen. But I can give you a promise, one that will live on forever. Our spirits will one day find the love that we deny through the love that we make tonight.”

  “Oh cushla, beat of my heart, I willna deny you. No other shall compare with you.”

  The strength Cinaed saw deep inside the heart of his love staggered him and in his own heart he knew he was unworthy. And that for as long as he lived there would never be another royal in possession of as much dignity and goodness as the waif like girl standing before him.

  Stepping closer, so that the tips of their toes touched, Riona intertwined their hands. Staring deeply into the eyes of the man she was relinquishing in favor of others, she promised him they would one day have the life they dreamed of. The humble flames surrounding them growing in might a
nd potency with each word she pledged to him.

  “This night together will be our only, yet in this gift I shall never be lonely.

  To live a life and life again, a living soul that has not end.

  A living promise of you and me, a life of three I’ll bare for thee.

  With their birth the gift of sight, bathed in blue; loves true light.

  From night to night and day to day, with their help true love will stay.

  Seen in light, a halo of blue, this my promise I give to you.

  Whenever our hearts cease to beat, our spirits true love then will meet.

  Held in the heart of the oldest of three, she will bear the love of you and me.

  Life to life and heart to heart, our true love no, will never part.

  Our love will live again, this you will see, as I will so mote it be.”

  Bounding around them at the powerful words, the fire snapped and cracked, wrapping them in a curtain of heat; dwindling in size, only to leap tall again as their lips met in a kiss that put an inferno to shame.

  “Are you sorceress now lass?” Cinaed whispered holding Riona close in his arms, his voice thick with emotion. Moved by her charmed words in a way that as a warrior and king he could never show.

  “Love is its own magic. A most powerful weapon when it comes from the heart and is pure and true like ours.” Riona promised him, unwilling to believe anything different.

  As the heightened flames receded, Cinaed’s resolve strengthened. He longed for Riona to be his wife, but she was right, she could not be Scotland’s queen.

  The matter had been decided years before and could not be undone. The disastrous result for breaking the covenant would call for death, his own as well as those whose lives he protected with his every breath. He would not allow Riona’s innocent blood to stain the ground so that he could fulfill his own desires. As king it was his responsibility to make sure his people were safe, no matter how much pain he might suffer in turn.

  There by the light of the fire their lips met again, their time together drawing close to an end as dawn approached.

  Tenderly Cinaed withdrew the plaid, woven in the colors of his clan, stripes of green, gray, and brown from Riona’s shoulders. Baring her untouched body before him, he ran his leathered hand along the curve of her jaw. Gently he fingered the silky strands of her golden hair. Drawing his hand down to her shoulder he could feel her heart beating rapidly under his palm.

  “Just as your heart beats for me, so does mine for you. Until the day I cease to breathe and every day after, you will always be mine.” Cinaed promised as there on the wool covered grass, surrounded by the curtain of fire, they loved for the first and last time.

  In the dying blush of flameless embers Riona held him close. Treasuring their remaining minutes together she imagined what their life could have been like had things been different.

  As the sun began its climbing ascent turning the deep purple sky to a painting of lavenders and oranges, Cinaed recounted word for word the poignant words of Riona’s promise in her ear.

  “I leave you most unwilling cushla. She will have my respect, but you will always have my heart. Dinna forget that.”

  “Never.”

  Sharing one final kiss Cinaed was gone, taking with him Riona’s heart and what remained of her very soul.

  Visitor

  In his absence Riona could feel the hot sting of tears she’d held a bay for so long, slowly rolling down her face.

  The war was brutal as she fought to hold in all the pain she felt inside. Her small body shaking with the effort it took to contain the sobs she didn’t want Cinaed to hear as her left her.

  When she was sure he was far enough away, when she could no longer hold back the pain; her lips bleeding from the struggle it took to hold all the suffering inside Riona fell to her knees, threw back her head, and let everything she felt inside come to the surface. The pain was a deep seated, searing hot agony that fair tore her body in two. A cleaving so intense Riona could not deny a large part of herself had died.

  The guttural screams of her torment echoed across the hills, down through the valley below to where the serfs rising with the new sun crossed themselves, begging God for His protection against what surely had to be a demon. It was the only thing capable of producing such unholy hair-raising screams of suffering.

  Locked inside their huts, huddled close, none drew an easy breath until the sounds of agony eventually faded into melancholy whimpers and then finally into spine chilling silence.

  Spent in grief, her body curled in on itself, Riona continued to lay inside the dormant ring of rock and ash.

  “My sweet child, why do you cry so?”

  Jolted by the soft voice Riona jumped to her feet, ready to confront the intruder.

  What she saw dried her tears instantly, causing any words she might have said to clog in her throat.

  Standing before her was a beautiful matron. Ethereal, she was dressed in a gown of dove gray. With hair so blonde it could’ve been mistaken for white hanging down to her knees. Thoughtful, she casually pulled a silver comb through a small section of tresses that draped over her breast over and over. Against her pale skin, black eyes rimmed with a glowing red looked as if she too had been crying.

  Too numb to be truly afraid Riona hurriedly wiped the tears from her face. “You are, bean-shidh, banshee! Do you bring with you death, Spirit? I dinna fear it, for you are too late. My heart already lies dead in my chest. ‘Tis only a matter of time until my body follows. I only await the final blow to finish the job.”

  “I dinna bring death nor its message. Ma name is Avelbane. As guardians to the mac Alpins I mourn the loss of family with those who remain.”

  “I am no mac Alpin. Why are you here?”

  “You are in the mac Alpin’s heart and therefore mine. The pain of your loss has called to me. Faery is my nature, but I was once mortal and remember fondly my first love. I have come to grant your pledge for your selflessness has served ye well. What you and I have been denied shall at last be fulfilled.”

  Stepping forward Avelbane ceased her ministrations long enough to brush the head of the silver comb across Riona’s belly.

  “Through you the first of the king’s children shall be born and all that you have asked for will be granted. Nurture well the lives that grow inside you fair Riona.”

  Choosing another section of hair, the ghostly woman went back to her constant primping, ready to take her leave.

  “Wait,” Riona called out, not wanting to be let alone again quiet so soon. “Will I see you again?”

  The banshee nodded. “I shall be there to attend the births and will return again to bring the children comfort when ye pass. Fare well dear Riona for ye have been blessed.”

  And with that the once human wraith took the shape of a white crow and flew away.

  Birth

  Cinaed became king that night, marrying the woman chosen as Scotland’s first queen.

  In the many days following their separation Riona indeed nurtured the seeds that Cinaed had planted inside her. Growing large and round with life, her slender frame was dominated by her huge belly. Nine months to the hour, during the peak of the winter solstice- the longest night of the year when dark triumphs over the light- Riona delivered the first of the king’s children at a glen hidden deep in the forest.

  The small hut in which she and Grandmother lived echoed with her Riona’s pain of labor.

  Her once smooth and unblemished body, now marred by purple lines where it had stretched and reformed to hold the lives inside her, clenched and relaxed sporadically with contractions as she struggled to bring new life into the world. The unfathomable ache of child bearing no match for the relentless pain she continued to experience daily as she lived through the absence of her beloved Cinaed.

  “Your time grows near,” The mid-wife predicted, casting an uneasy glance at the pale blonde girl standing at Riona’s bedside alternately wiping a cool cloth across Riona’s dam
p brow and running a silver comb through her hair. “The young girl should leave till ‘tis done. No use scaring her before she weds.” Truth be told, the midwife was the one who was scared. The lasses red eyes unnerved her.

  “No, she stays.” Riona panted as another contraction racked her body.

  “Very well.” The mid-wife gave in. Her orders came from the king and she had already been handsomely paid for her service. If her patient wanted the strange girl at her side, so be it.

  Panting through the pain Riona welcomed the youngest of her three daughters on a final blood curdling scream.

  Upon her arrival the mid-wife crossed herself, an effort to ward off evil as she called for heavenly protection. One baby was a gift, two babies were rare, three were unheard of.

  Blind to the mid-wife’s actions Riona smiled through her exhaustion, the pains of labor already forgotten, to press the first of many kisses upon the small dark heads laying in her arms.

  “Ma Creideamah, ma Dochas, ma Gra. My Faith, my Hope, my Love.” She breathed, bestowing upon each the name they would carry with them from this life forth. They were all she had left of their father.

  Tears blurred Riona’s eyes with the bittersweet taste of the moment. For all the joy the birth of her daughters had brought her Riona’s heart was still incomplete, as it would remain for the rest of her life.

  “Oh Cinaed, I love you, I love you.” Riona cried, her heart breaking all over again.

  Recognizing the eerie cry, the mid-wife hurried through her tasks. The moans of grief chilling her blood the same as it had less than a years past.

  Brushing a tear from her own eye, she could not help but be affected by the lingering love the maid still felt for their king.

  By sunset of the next night word of the babies arrival had spread through the Highlands like wildfire. From the mid-wife to her sister, from the sister to her husband, from the husband to his brother, to his cousin and his wife, to their neighbor, and so on until it found its way to the king’s ear. Who it is said that very night in front of hall full of guests allowed a trio of tears to fall unheeded; before drinking himself into stupor in an act of self-congratulations, lifting each of his brimming cups in an unspoken toast to his daughters and the woman who in his heart would always be queen.