Maeve sat back in her chair. “Mairead told me what happened. I assume those men were looking for the Sidh because they want the reliquary. They must want Mairead because she can carry it. Rhiannon thinks one of the Forbidden was behind the attack.”
Rhiannon placed trenchers of food in front of everyone—boiled sausage, eggs, fresh bread, dried tomatoes for Connor, Mairead, and herself. She set a trencher of bread, tomatoes, a handful of hazelnuts, and a few preserved and warmed roots in front of Maeve and sat down. “He waited outside my house last night. I talked to him.” She adjusted her shawl, calm and unruffled, and started to eat.
Mairead’s mouth dropped. “He was here?” It must be the one who’s been tracking us.
Connor put a calming hand on Mairead’s, and some of her tension faded. “One of them has been tracking us. Do you know which one you saw?”
“He had a male presence, yes. The cat was frightened. She doesn’t like men.” As if summoned by the conversation, Rhiannon’s gray tabby jumped into her lap. Rhiannon scratched the cat’s ears. “Never fear. The holly will protect us.”
Maeve drew in a sharp breath. “You knew he was tracking you, and you didn’t contact me?”
Connor waved her concerns away with his uninjured hand. “We’ve had a few close calls, nothing more.”
“It is not up to you to play games with the life of this girl,” Maeve said, anger rising in her voice.
Mairead bristled. I’m a queen, too. She won’t treat me as if I’m not even in the room. “Connor hasn’t played games with my life,” she said. “He’s been diligent and faithful to complete the task you gave him. You should trust your son.”
Maeve frowned. “Then I hope he has a plan to deal with this.”
“With the Forbidden? Sorry, no,” Connor said. “But I will continue to keep Mairead safe to the best of my abilities.” He sipped his kaafa. “I don’t think we’ll make it to Albard before the snows hit now. I have to stay here for a while and heal. I can’t sit a horse like this.”
“Where will you go?” Maeve asked.
“Galbragh.”
Maeve’s face hardened. “You’ll hide her in the midst of slave territory?”
“I can’t go to some little village. Slavers are too unpredictable. At least Galbragh is defended. She’ll be safe in the palace district for a winter. I’ll hide her with Prince Henry.”
Maeve considered that. “And where will you go?”
“I’ll stay with her. I won’t leave her until I see her to Albard. That was the job, right?” He squeezed Mairead’s hand. “Besides, I’d rather spend the winter in a palace than fight ice and snow back to Espara.” His thumb brushed across Mairead’s knuckles.
Mairead’s stomach lurched with hope. A whole winter with him? Could I be so lucky?
Maeve’s gaze flitted from Connor to Mairead and back again. She finally stood. “Since you don’t seem to need my input in this decision, I’ll return to the village. Rhiannon, thank you for everything.”
Rhiannon stood, and the cat protested its unceremonious dismissal with a sharp yowl. “It was good to see you, yes.”
“What has it been—fifteen years? More?” Maeve put a hand on Rhiannon’s arm. “Thank you for caring for Connor.”
“Bah. I suckled him and changed his pants. He’s like a son to me as well.”
Connor grimaced.
Maeve embraced Rhiannon. “When this is over, I’ll come back for a long talk over tea.”
“Yes. Some tea.” Her eyes narrowed. “You’re ready, yes. I think so. Some nettle, red clover, raspberry leaf—I think you’re ready for some tea. Soon.”
Maeve frowned. “Yes. Well. I’ll visit soon.” She looked at Connor. “We should speak privately for a moment. Can you walk outside?”
“I need my boots.”
Mairead fetched his boots from behind the curtain and helped him into them. She held the door for them and watched as Connor leaned against a tree and spoke with Maeve. “Rhiannon,” she said. “What did the Sidh healers mean when they said there was something wrong with Connor’s blood?”
Rhiannon busied herself with clearing food Maeve had ignored. “The Sidh speak of elements and magic, yes. The elements are in all of us—stone, water, air. They run through us in our blood. If they say his blood fought them, they mean they couldn’t use the elements within it to heal him.”
“Then how did they heal him?”
“Elements outside his body,” she said. “It must be, yes. But they have to take away for everything that is added. Balance. It took them quite some time.”
Mairead sat down again and sipped her tea. She screwed up her courage. “Did Queen Maeve do something to Connor’s blood?”
Rhiannon sat down at the table and leaned close to Mairead. Her eyes flashed with anger. “I am many things, but not an oathbreaker, no. You will not get me to say.”
Mairead lowered her voice. “You know I heard you talking last night. I heard her say that she’s afraid of what he is. What is he?”
Rhiannon shook her head. “Not for me to tell.” She drank her tea and averted her eyes. “He will come into his power when the time is right. She cannot keep him from it.”
“You mean the ravenmark?”
Rhiannon put down her cup and turned a steely gaze to Mairead. “You think you’ll tame him, girl? Eh? That boy isn’t meant to be tamed. You have a great destiny, and it’s twined with his, but if you think you will keep him tame and staid and in one place, only grief will come to you.”
“I haven’t—”
“You have, lass. I see the way you look at him, and he has affection for you, yes. Bed him, have his children, enjoy what he can give you, but do not expect to tame him.”
I can’t give my heart to someone who won’t stay. Mairead blinked back tears. How can I feel so divided? How can I want him so much, even knowing that even his own mother doesn’t think he can commit to me?
“Mairead.” Connor’s voice called her from outside the cabin. She walked outside to see him alone, bent over, his hands bracing himself on his knees as sweat trickled down his neck. “Help. I need to lean on you.”
She put his arm around her shoulders and helped him back in the house to the bed. She pulled his boots off and sat next to him. “What did you and your mother discuss?”
“The bond. The Sidh village and the tribes. You.”
“What does she think of me?”
“Probably that you’re a poor unsullied girl I’ll defile the first chance I get.”
After the words we had, I suspect her feelings are much stronger than that. “Did she remove the bond?”
“No. I haven’t finished the job yet.”
It stung. He’ll ruin you and leave you. “Am I still a job to you?”
“No, that’s not what I meant.” He lifted a hand to her face. “Of course you’re not just a job to me. But, I agreed to get you to Sveklant, and until I do, I have to live with the bond.”
She took his hand in hers. Rhiannon said she couldn’t keep him tame or staid. But I want a home. I want a husband and a home. I could have his children, but I would never have him. She swallowed her tears. “Do you need anything?”
“I just need rest. Sleep.” He stroked her cheek. “Mairead, what is it?”
“I’m tired, too.” She leaned down to kiss his forehead. “If you need me, just call.” He closed his eyes, and she walked to the other side of the curtain and leaned against a wall. The ravenmarked never have balance, he’d told her. He’ll ruin you and leave you, Maeve said. Mairead swiped her eyes. No. He won’t ruin me. I won’t let him. He’s not for me.
Chapter Twenty-One
I’ve watched the forest for some time.
For every raven I see, there is a dove.
I think Aiden is my dove.
— Queen Brenna’s diary
The first few days at Rhiannon’s house blurred together for Connor. He would wake, eat, try to move around, and then go back to bed. It didn’t help that R
hiannon insisted on giving him various brews for the pain and stiffness that also made him sleep. He tried to refuse her, but she would hear none of it.
“I’ll get fat just lying around, sleeping, and eating,” he said in a futile attempt to refuse her one morning.
“You’ll get well, yes. Drink.” She gestured to the cup before him and checked his bruises and cuts while he drank. When he finally finished the brew, she pushed him away to bed again.
Mairead slept on the floor next to the bed every night. Every morning, she was up before he woke, helping Rhiannon with farm chores and work around the house. “I may as well. It keeps me busy,” she told him one night while she brushed out her hair after a bath.
The familiar scent of her stirred longing. “Are you still practicing your bow?”
“Yes, and my daggers. I practice the forms and the exercises you taught me every morning.” She smiled. “I’ve never taken care of pigs and goats and chickens before. Is this what you did for the Mac Raes?”
He laughed. “That brings back memories. Slopping pigs was not my favorite chore.”
“I’ve decided that chickens are more pleasant roasted over a fire than pecking around a barnyard,” she said.
He laughed again and winced. She tensed, but he waved a hand. “I’m fine. Just sore.” He reached for her hand.
She stood before he could touch her. “Go to sleep. I’m going to finish a few chores.” Before he could protest, she was gone.
On the fifth day, he woke before dawn and sat up. Mairead still slept, and he didn’t hear Rhiannon. The tenderness in his face and torso had faded, and he fidgeted with restless energy. I need to hunt. He slipped out of bed, pulled on breeches, boots, and tunic, and left the house, bow in hand and knives in his boots.
The sky bore the dark purple of pre-dawn as he picked his way through the forest. Elk trampled the distant underbrush, but he knew he was too weak to carry an elk back to Rhiannon’s house. A yearling deer at most, he thought. He sniffed the air, and his stomach lurched. Carrion. The sky ahead swirled with black shapes. Damn. The Morrag.
Memories of his initiation flooded back. The skin on his thigh tingled again as if it recognized her presence. Odors of rotting flesh and death hung in the air. He nocked an arrow. The ravens circled. “I know you’re here. If you want me, take me,” he said.
The ravens descended one by one, merging eyes, wings, talons into the feathered woman with the smooth coal-black face he recalled. She approached with an undulating glide, her wet, black eyes fixed on his face. “You refused to heed me. You ignored my warning and fought me. Why?”
The voice rang with familiarity, but the experience of hearing it aloud again made him shudder. “What warning?”
“My messenger.”
The raven in camp. He frowned. “Why didn’t you just talk to me? You aren’t shy about invading my thoughts.”
“If you were mine, you would have seen them as they were.” She held out one undulating arm. “Why did you refuse me? I would give you strength.”
He stretched he bowstring taut. “I don’t want it—not with the price you demand.”
She stepped closer. “What price I demand would come back to you a thousandfold. Give yourself to me, and you will be rewarded beyond your imagining.”
His mouth twisted in disgust, and he scoffed. “That’s a lie. That’s something men tell themselves when they justify stupidity. They sell themselves to magic or religion and justify wars and atrocities by saying they’ll be rewarded in this life or the next.”
“Then you will refuse the girl?”
His grip on the bow wavered. “What does Mairead have to do with this?”
“She bonds you. She holds your heart. Pledge yourself to me, and she will be yours.”
He stood resolute. “No. You can’t tempt me with that. I won’t do that to her.”
“She will be another man’s bride if you refuse her.”
“I know that.”
“You would willingly give her up for her good, even if it destroys you?”
“Yes.”
“Then she would not be in the way of you coming to me.”
“Damn you.” He raised his bow and drew back the arrow, aiming it at the heart of the form. “They should have killed me. I’ll die before I let you take me.” He fired.
Though her body appeared solid, the arrow flew through her chest as through a vapor and landed in a tree behind her. Her satisfied cackle rose into the trees. “You cannot harm me, raven,” she said. “You belong to the earth. You will come to the earth, and you will lead many men to do my bidding.” She reached for him again.
He stepped back, his stomach twisting in fear and anger at once. No. Not this time. She won’t touch me again. He dropped his bow and drew his sword, fighting weakness in his arms and shoulders. “I may not be able to wound you, but I’ll destroy as many of your birds as I can before you take me.”
The Morrag drew her arm back. “You will come to me, raven.”
The sun slowly lightened the sky around them. Her body dissolved into ravens. One by one, they fluttered skyward and disappeared.
The spirit’s voice hung over the clearing with one final warning: You will be my first.
Connor sheathed his sword and let out a breath, clutching his aching ribs. He leaned against a tree for several minutes. A deer tiptoed from the wood. He picked up his bow and drew an arrow, but realized he’d grown too weak to haul the animal back to Rhiannon’s house. He slung the bow over his shoulder. “I guess it’s your lucky day.” The deer twitched an ear.
Mairead looked up from her chores when he returned to Rhiannon’s farm. She smiled. “You must be feeling better.”
“Much.” He stepped close to her. He tried to kiss her cheek, but she bent to pick up a wooden bucket. He stepped back. “You look pretty this morning. The autumn air agrees with you.”
She averted her eyes and affected a bright tone. “Flattery so early in the day? I don’t know if I’m ready to spar with you just yet.”
“It’s not flattery.” She holds your heart, the Morrag had said. She has no idea. “What can I do to help?”
***
Connor felt better each day, and he offered to do some small repairs to Rhiannon’s house before they left. He also moved to the loft in her small barn so the women could sleep in the bed. It reminded him of hiding in the hayloft to escape his tutors when he was a young man. The scent of the hay and sounds of the surrounding forest comforted him.
One morning, Mairead woke him in the middle of a dream. “Connor,” she said, shaking his foot from where she stood on the ladder. “It’s morning. Rhiannon sent me to wake you.”
He rubbed his face and sat up. “I was dreaming about you,” he said.
Her face flushed pink. “What about?”
The thought of his dream made him shiver. “It’s not important. I’ll be down in a few minutes.”
She frowned. “Rhiannon has breakfast ready.”
“All right.”
She disappeared down the ladder. He lay back against the straw pillow, closed his eyes, and returned to the dream.
By the time he’d washed, dressed, and joined the women in the house, Mairead had already eaten. “What took you so long, boy?” Rhiannon asked as she put warmed kaafa and a trencher of food in front of him.
“Just a little sore this morning.”
She narrowed her eyes and stared at him. “Mairead, will you go gather eggs for me?”
Mairead stood. “Of course.” She picked up the egg basket and left the house.
Rhiannon sat at the table as Connor started to eat. “A little pent up need, yes?”
“Gods, Rhiannon. You may have changed my pants when I was a child, but you can stay out of them now.”
She scoffed. “You could have the girl, you know. She wants you as much as you want her. She’d make you happy, and not just under the blankets.”
He pushed bits of sausage around on the trencher. “She’s made it cl
ear this week that she doesn’t want me.”
Rhiannon shook her head. “She fears what she feels, but make no mistake—she’s in love with you.”
He set down his knife. “I won’t ruin her that way. Not with what I am.”
“And what are you, then, eh? You think a bit of blue dye means you can’t give that girl your heart? Bah.” She cuffed his ear. “You’re a mulehead if you think you’ll find anything better. That girl is meant for you, yes.”
He sipped his kaafa. “The throneless queen and the tainted duke.”
“What?”
“Isn’t that a line from something?”
She frowned. “Where did you hear it?”
“I dreamed it. I was dreaming about her, and I told her that’s what we’d be—a throneless queen and a tainted duke. It seems like it’s something from a story or a legend.”
“The songs come around sometimes, bringing wisdom.” She paused. “I’ve seen the eddies of your future swirl around you since you were born. You have a great destiny, yes, and that girl is part of it.”
He couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t eat. “I can’t ruin her. I can’t give her the hope of a future and then leave her that way.”
“You think she’s weak?”
“No, she’s the strongest woman I’ve ever met.”
She lowered her voice. “You love her. You don’t want to hurt her. But you’re hurting both of you by refusing her.”
“And when the Morrag takes me? What then?”
Her eyes narrowed. “How many did you kill when it quickened?”
He flinched. “I lost count.”
“Hmm.” She put her hand on his forehead and closed her eyes. “She blocks it. She keeps her own counsel, this Morrag. All I can see is your future with that girl. She is meant to bear your sons and daughters.”
He pushed his food away and stood. “I have to go. I’ll bring you some meat.” He picked up the bow and quiver near Rhiannon’s door and walked out of the house.
He heard Mairead in the barn and stopped to look in on her. She soothed the chickens, petted the barn cats, and even stopped at the goat’s stall to offer a gentle hand. The stubborn nanny butted her hand. “Stop that. I offer you a scratch behind the ear and you repay me with a headbutt?”
Ravenmarked (The Taurin Chronicles) Page 33
