Cadeyrn

by Hazel Hunter

Brennus made a circling gesture with his hand before gesturing forward, and once the laird rejoined them they rode to a nearby glen. There the laird and the chieftain dismounted, and consulted Maddock’s map before Brennus addressed the men.

  “We’ll ride first to the mill. My men will approach, so you’ll have our backs,” he told the McAra clansmen. “Maddock, if we engage the famhairean, you’ll collect the people still living and get them away.”

  “Stay behind the Skaravens’ swords,” Kanyth added, and dragged a dirk over his palm, holding it up to show the wound before he poured water from a flask over it. He lifted his hand again so the McAra clansmen could watch the gash close and vanish. “We’re no’ as easy to kill.”

  “If you’re wounded,” Taran said, his quiet voice sounding loud in the shocked stillness, “clasp your arms around your mount’s neck. I’ll send it and you out of harm’s way.”

  “You cannae control our horses, man,” a big clansman riding a massive destrier said.

  “Actually, he can,” Althea advised him.

  Taran crooked his finger at the war horse, which hurried over to him without hesitation. The horse master pointed to the ground, and the massive animal dropped down, shaking off the clansman before rolling away from him and pawing the air with his hooves.

  The big man stood and stared down at his mount before eyeing Taran. “Could you do that with a lass?”

  “Why? You cannae coax one to your bed with your charms?” Taran countered, making the other men chuckle.

  “You’ve seen what we can do, so use us as your shields,” Brennus said. He looked around at the laird’s men. “The giants have unmatchable strength, and cannae be killed. Dinnae attack them. If they come at you, cut off their arms and then their legs. ’Tis the only method to hamper the bastarts.” He turned to regard Althea. “My lady wife–”

  “–is perfectly capable of defending herself,” she reminded him, and dismounted to walk over to a large shrub. She touched it, pouring her ice power into it, and then stood back to let the men see its whitened, frozen glitter. She flicked a finger against it, making it shatter and fall into a heap of broken crystals. “I can do the same to the famhairean.”

  Maddock walked over to inspect the remains of the shrub before meeting her gaze. “By the Gods. What need we swords when we have you, my lady?”

  “Because there’s only one of me, and lots of them.” Althea glanced at the stunned faces around them. “Best to stay clear of my hands in battle, too, lads.”

  The men collectively murmured ayes, and a few inched away from her.

  From there they rode in battle formation toward the mill, and stopped a short distance away to survey the surrounding land.

  “I see smoke.” Althea pointed to a haze lingering just above the trees.

  “More on the wind,” Brennus said and breathed in. “’Tis no’ from a hearth. Kanyth, Taran, with me.” The three men jumped to the ground and in moments had disappeared into the trees.

  Althea wanted to go with them but knew someone had to defend McAra and his clansmen. But as the minutes passed, and the longer they were gone, the tighter she gripped her mount’s reins.

  “Have faith, my lady,” Maddock murmured to her.

  “I’d have more at his side,” she admitted, and then saw three shadows separating from the trees. “There they are.”

  “They’ve abandoned the place,” Brennus said as he came to lift her down from the horse. “Set fire to the mill house as well, and ’tis smoldering. Come with me, Wife.”

  Brennus led her to a small out building, where she saw a huge stone wheel and a broken door by the entry. Inside the dark interior he lit a lamp to show her discarded garments. The women had been kept here. Althea turned around until she saw three stones sitting atop a wooden bin.

  “They left a message,” she said and went over and raised the lid. Words were scratched into the wood.

  “Burned the mill. Escaped with Cade. R.E.L.P.’”

  “What does relp mean?” Brennus asked.

  “It’s their initials. Rowan, Emeline, Lily and Perrin.” She met her husband’s gaze. “They’re all still alive.”

  “Then we may yet hope.” He walked out to survey the area as the laird joined them.

  “Some of them took a wagon to the east,” Maddock said, gesturing to wheel ruts in the ground. “No’ many, mayhap two or three.” He nodded in the direction of the furrows crossing the fields, which went in the opposite direction. “The giants tunneled west.”

  Kanyth emerged from the trees and trotted over to them. “I’ve found passage markers in the woods,” he told the chieftain. “They’re Cade’s. I’m sure of it.”

  “Laird McAra,” Brennus said, “you and your men should follow the cart. Likely Hendry and Murdina took it to get away after the mill burned. We’ll track our people and the famhairean. Dinnae try to capture the druids. Only follow them.”

  “Please be careful, my lord,” Althea said. “Henry and Murdina have powerful abilities, and they won’t hesitate to use them against you and your men.”

  “Aye, my lady,” Maddock said and signaled to his clansmen to follow him. To Brennus he said, “May the Gods ride with you, Chieftain.”

  Brennus sent half of the Skaraven with Kanyth and Taran to follow the furrows west, and led the remainder with him and Althea into the forest. When she saw the oak grove portal that had been blocked by a heap of millstones anger welled up inside her. How like Hendry and Murdina to make sure that none of the women could open it and escape. Something on the ground caught her eye. She crouched to find a few strands of long blonde hair with dried blood holding them together.

  “I think Lily might be hurt,” she said, showing it to Brennus.

  “Aye, and Cade carried her, for his boot marks grow deeper here.” He surveyed the grove before eyeing a tree, and strode over to pluck some dead leaves stuck in its bark. “They came this way.”

  Althea noticed that while Cadeyrn had managed to conceal any trace of his passage Brennus seemed to have no difficulty tracking his path. “Where are these markers Kanyth said he found?”

  “All around us.” The chieftain stopped and pointed to a pine branch with some bent needles, and a bunch of twigs on a patch of moss. “Five crooked needles. Five fallen twigs. On the tree, five leaves left wedged. Cade uses clan ciphers for his markers.”

  Althea eyed the moss. “What does five twigs mean?”

  “He’s four lasses with him,” Brennus said as he looked away from her.

  She tugged on his arm. “You’re really a horrible liar. Tell me.”

  “Five isnae good. ’Tis our cipher for uncertainty.” He hesitated before he said, “Five tells me he’s no’ sure he’ll survive.”

  That meant the other women were at risk, and Althea wasn’t going to waste another moment talking about it. “Well, then let’s go and find our war master, Chieftain.”

  Cadeyrn’s markers ended at the edge of the forest, but at the last Brennus crouched and brushed some leaves away from the soil. That revealed lines of rocks pressed into the ground. The irregular grid-like arrangement was parted down the middle. Brennus stood and looked north, as Althea followed his gaze.

  “Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” she asked, awe in her voice.

  “Aye,” he said, nodding toward the hill.

  In the distance stood a rocky hill that looked as if it had been split in half. Cadeyrn, the war master whose battle spirit was the sharp-sighted owl, had left this message. But so had Brennus’s battle spirit when it had neatly cleaved a ghostly, gray owl down the middle in the stronghold’s caibeal. Althea’s heart beat a little faster, and the faintest hope stirred deep in her chest.

  “He’s taken them to the divide there,” Brennus said. He turned to call to the men to mount up, and then helped Althea onto her horse. “We must ride swiftly now.”

  She patted her mare before she gathered the reins. “We’re ready.”

  Loping across the fields toward the cr
evasse, Althea silently prayed that they’d find Brennus’s second and the women hiding there. Once they reached the base of the huge crack, however, Brennus dismounted to find another coded message left in stones that told them Cadeyrn and the women had moved on to a nearby village.

  “We’re going to end up following them all the way back to Dun Mor,” she grumbled, as Brennus climbed up on his mount.

  The chieftain wasted no time as he led the troop directly across a dry river bed.

  “Is this the river that Hendry dammed so you couldn’t approach by water?”

  “Aye,” he said. “But no’ only that. Hendry needs to protect the giants. Water makes them revert to their old forms.”

  “You mean, it turns them back into trees?” When he nodded Althea glanced up at the sky. “When can we expect the next rainstorm?”

  “After the thaw, in six moons,” Brennus said sounding grim now. “If winter lingers, mayhap seven. Come, Wife.”

  Before they reached the village Brennus spotted new furrows of displaced earth streaking in from the west. He signaled for the men to change formation, and the Skaraven moved themselves into a tight defensive ring around Althea and her mate. Seeing the cottages that had been destroyed made her stomach clench, and then Brennus shifted position in front of her.

  “I can’t see through you,” she told him, and then realized why that was. She swallowed against her tight throat before she asked, “Are they all dead?”

  “I cannae say from this distance, lass,” he admitted. “But the pond behind the shearing house, ’tis full of bodies.”

  “Check the pond and the village,” he ordered some of the men. “Lively now, lads.”

  Manath signaled to a small group and galloped off as they followed.

  “Damn them,” Althea said, her throat tight. She wiped at her stinging eyes, and then found herself being plucked from her saddle and cradled in her husband’s strong arms. “They were so close to coming home.”

  “Cade would have used the pond if he could,” Brennus said. He frowned and looked over at it. “Even injured, the water would have healed him.”

  Althea pressed the heels of her hands against her stinging eyes. “Please, God.”

  The men galloped back to report that the pond had been frozen after the bodies were dumped in it, and they’d seen only the remains of villagers there. They’d also discovered that someone had occupied the largest of the cottages as recently as that morning.

  “Chieftain, these I took from the trash,” Manath said, and showed him a pair of badly worn shoes with blackened steel toes.

  “Lily’s shoes,” Althea said. She reached for them, not caring that they covered her hands with dirt. “She hated them so much she would have ditched them as soon as she found something else to wear.” She smiled at her husband. “They’re alive. I know it.”

  Ailpin pointed past the collapsed cottages. “I reckon they may yet be, my lady,” he said. “More sign of the famhairean go from here toward the ridges. They may yet pursue our war master.”

  “Then we ride to the ridges after them,” Brennus said. “Quickly.”

  Chapter Twenty

  LILY HURRIED AFTER Cadeyrn as he led them deeper into the forest, away from the approaching force. Twilight had deepened into nightfall, but the moon shed enough light to help them avoid the worst of the obstacles. When she glanced over her shoulder to check on the others she saw Rowan helping a badly-limping Emeline, and Perrin lagging behind them.

  “I’ll get her,” she told her lover. “We need you in the lead.” Dropping back, she put her arm around the dancer. “Lean on me, sweetheart.”

  “I’m fine,” Perrin whispered as she did just that. “Lily, they’re too close now. Cade won’t be able to reach the waterfall unless we create a diversion.”

  “Yes, he will. We’re going to keep running,” she told her firmly as she hauled her through a tangle of branches. A strange surge of icy heat ran down the length of her arms. “Don’t give up now, Perrin.”

  “I can’t see it,” the other woman said. “When I think of the water and Dun More all I see is a desert, and a golden castle. Empty, bleeding eye sockets carved into the walls. It’s awful.”

  Lily tripped over her own feet and nearly fell. “Sorry. It’s just your mind playing tricks on you again. There aren’t any castles out here.”

  “This one was in Cade’s chest,” Perrin insisted, her voice wavering. “And someone had chopped off his head.”

  “Right,” Lily said. If Perrin kept talking like this Lily would be sick all over both of them. She also knew that Perrin’s visions didn’t always come true. “What sort of diversion can we make, then?”

  “When we see the falls, I’ll break off and run the other way,” Perrin told her. “You get everyone into the water and go with Cade.”

  “And leave you behind to die?” She almost slapped her. “After we’ve done all this bloody work to get away? I’d kill you myself first.”

  “They won’t.” The dancer grinned. “They need one of us to open the portals for them. I’ll be the only future druid left. Hendry will have no choice but to protect me. Once you’re safe, you come back for me, okay? And bring lots of those lovely Scottish highlanders with you.”

  Lily suddenly knew the other woman wasn’t telling her the whole truth. The details of the vision of the castle were ghastly correct. There had to be more to it. Why would Perrin want to sacrifice herself now, when they were so close to freedom?

  “Please, Lily,” Perrin pleaded, sounding almost tearful. “I went along with your scheme to get Cade here. It’s my turn to play Druid Roulette.”

  She could feel the knobby bones of the dancer’s spine poking into the arm that supported her. Perrin had grown so thin and weak she had to be running by pure stubborn will alone. When Coig found them all gone, he wouldn’t cradle the dancer in his massive arms and croon sweet things to her. No, he’d grab her by the neck and drag her back to Hendry and Murdina—and deliver her limp and lifeless.

  If traveling through the portal hadn’t healed her, that would have been Lily’s fate.

  Her arms burned, and this time Lily could feel the outline of every feather scarred into her skin. More than the sensation, she felt the presence of something inside her that reminded her of what she felt whenever she touched Cadeyrn’s ink. Until that moment she hadn’t really believed it was some battle spirit, but it flooded her now with the same strength she’d used to walk out of her father’s mansion.

  What shall you give for my warrior?

  My heart. My life.

  Lily had made so few choices in her life that she knew how important they could be. She’d chosen to go into therapy, and leave Edgar, and begin a new life as a cruise ship sous-chef. That had changed her destiny. She’d chosen Cadeyrn to be her lover and her love, and she’d gone into his heart to free him from his fortress of loneliness. That had filled the emptiness in her own battered soul. She’d lived a lifetime of happiness in only a few days after a short life filled with endless fear and misery. Lily desperately wanted more time, time to love and to be loved. But to save the man who had saved her, and the women who had become her sisters, it would have to be enough.

  “What do you say?” the dancer asked. “Will you help me?”

  “Yes, Perrin, I will,” she said, not meaning a word of it as she used her power to pick up a good-sized rock and drop it firmly on the back of the other woman’s neck.

  The dancer’s eyes rolled up in her head, and she sagged against Lily. Taking a firm grip on her, she held her against her side just as Cadeyrn fell back to join them.

  “Too much exercise for her, I think,” Lily said, as he picked up the unconscious woman. “Just before she blacked out she had one of her visions. She told me that we must run for the falls right this minute, or we won’t make it.”

  “You’re sure?” he asked as Rowan and Emeline joined them.

  I love him, Lily thought, amazed by how powerful that made her. “Absolutel
y, boyo. Now which way is it?”

  As soon as Cadeyrn nodded to the west they headed in that direction, plowing through snowy brush and weaving through a labyrinth of pine and alder. Branches clawed at Lily, and one time she skidded on a patch of hard-crusted snow and nearly smacked face-first into a tree trunk. But she soon heard the sound of rushing water as the ground sloped upward, and went to help Rowan climb with Emeline wedged between them.

  “Tell me this will be the last of it,” the nurse panted, her face so pale now it looked like a plaster mask. “Lie to me if you must.”

  “Don’t sweat it, Florence,” Rowan told her. “We’re almost there.”

  Lily heard something snap, and then Emeline uttered a low cry.

  “What was that?” Lily gasped.

  “Never mind it.” The nurse gripped her more tightly. “Just dinnae let go of me, or I’ll slide down this slope like a bloody avalanche.”

  Rowan braced her shoulder under Emeline’s arm. “Then you’re taking me with you.”

  They emerged from the trees onto a rocky cliff with high, jagged boulders gating the mountain stream that powered the falls. Lily could see the boulders were too high and steep to climb over to get to the water. Cadeyrn eased Perrin down to the ground before he went with Lily to the edge to look down. Beneath them a pool of dark water churned. He looked back at the other women.

  “’Tis too far for them to jump,” he said, and looked up at the boulders. “We must climb a little higher to get into the stream.”

  “More climbing.” Emeline muffled a groan as she collapsed onto the ground. “Could you give us a moment, lad? I think my ankle’s broken.”

  “Okay,” Rowan said, breathing hard. “There’s a big lump on the back of my sister’s head.” She glared at Lily. “Like someone bashed her with a rock. Again.”

  “She was going to try something ridiculous,” Lily assured her. “Since you always chase after her when she does, you’d both be killed. I’ll apologize as soon as she wakes up.”

  “Next time,” Rowan said, “just give me the rock.”

  All around the base of the falls the ground began to undulate and crumble, and several small trees made an eerie sound as they uprooted and fell over to crash into the brush. The disturbance flushed animals from the surrounding woods to run or fly away. Then the air went still.