The Warrior's Salvation (Warriors of Eriu Book 1)

by Mia Pride

  Clarice frowned and touched the wreath of flowers adorning her head. “But, I thought this—”

  Ealasaid waved her off and smiled. “I know we all helped make you that wreath as well, but since I was particularly unkind to you before, I feel I should give you one more gift.” She chewed her lower lip nervously and shuffled her feet. Was she afraid of being rejected?

  “What sort of gift did you have in mind?” Clarice tilted her head in question, wondering for all the world what was going on in the lass’s scrambled mind.

  “You say you love to create beautiful dresses. Spring is upon us and soon it will be time to gather plants to create dyes. I know of a very special plant not far from here that I stumbled upon once. It makes the most amazing blue I have ever seen. Only me and my mama know of it and everyone always loves our blue dresses. See?”

  Clarice looked down at the blue of Ealasaid’s dress and pursed her lips. It appeared to be a most typical shade of blue. Clarice had a dress with a much more vibrant hue, but she would never be rude enough to say so, especially with the lass trying to be kind. “Aye, tis lovely,” Clarice smiled.

  Ealasaid’s eye lit up at the compliment. “My gift to you is that I wish to take you to the place where it grows, so you might know of this secret plant when the time comes.” Taking Clarice by the hand, the lass began to tug her out of the house through the already open doorway.

  Clarice looked aghast at Ealasaid. “What? Right now?” Was the lass mad? “I am to be married shortly. Jeoffrey will be looking for me. Can you not show me on the morrow? Is the plant even blooming now? Tis only just spring and most plants—”

  Ealasaid frowned and crossed her arms over her chest in a pout. “I am trying so very hard to be kind to you, Clarice. Nay. The plant is not yet in bloom. But it will be soon and I simply wish to show you where.”

  “Right now?” Clarice pulled back and frowned. What was the lass trying to pull? Suddenly, doubts about Ealasaid’s good intentions began to run through her mind. Her behavior was quite odd…although admittedly she had only known the lass two days. Mayhap she was simply the pushy sort.

  “Tis just this way,” Ealasaid huffed and pointed a finger behind Jeoffrey’s farm and into the woods not far into in the distance. “You know, Clarice? Never mind. I only wished to be kind, but I can see you are too good for me and my menial offer of friendship.”

  As Ealasaid stomped off in the opposite direction in a rather pitiful display of poor temper, Clarice scratched her head and tried to think. She was an odd lass, though her offer seemed innocent enough. True, Clarice did enjoy discovering new plants to use as a dye and mayhap she could use a few techniques to create an even bolder shade of blue than what was displayed in the fabric of Ealasaid’s dress. Clarice shook her head. The shade did not matter. This lass was trying to be kind and Clarice had made her feel a like a fool. What harm would it be to simply let Ealasaid show her where the plant grows quickly, then hurry back to the festivities?

  “Wait, Ealasaid!” Clarice waved and ran toward the retreating lass, trying to stop her in her stubborn tracks. “I did not mean for you to feel offended. Your offer is a kind one and I am thankful. If it will only take a moment, I will accompany you.”

  Ealasaid stopped in her tracks and froze stiffly, as if reconsidering her offer. Clarice wanted to roll her eyes and walk away. She really did not have time for this nonsense. Yet, her desire to fit in with the lassies kept her from making any rude gestures. This was her wedding day and she refused to let a stubborn lass ruin it.

  “Och, alright.” Ealasaid put out a hand for Clarice, and she took it, following Ealasaid behind the farm. The grass was much wilder here and skimmed along her ankles, so Clarice raised her skirts as best as she could to prevent the fabric from becoming wet from the dew still clinging to the crisp green blades. They walked in silence for a few moments before Ealasaid began to ask questions about Clarice’s past. “Where did you live before now?”

  The sudden question, after such a long stretch of silence, made Clarice jump a tad, but she cleared her throat to respond. “A small tuath not far from here, Caledonii.”

  Ealasaid nodded her approval at the answer and Clarice looked at her strangely. She was a very odd lass, indeed. “You must have lived with a man. Nay lass and child can live alone.”

  “What a strange question, Ealasaid.” The lass only shrugged but stayed silent. “Aye. I did live with a man.”

  Approaching the woods, Ealasaid slowed down and dragged Clarice carefully by the hand. Clarice stopped and looked ahead with a sigh. The wild grass was fading away and rocky earth and mud began to surround them and trees towered above, blocking out the sun as only a few rays shown through the still barren tree branches. She hesitated and pulled back from Ealasaid’s determined grasp. Irritation started to replace her careful patience. “I am not going in there,” she said with a huff and folded her arms, letting go of her dress’s hem.

  “We are almost there. Tis just through here,” Ealasaid murmured as she pushed Clarice forcefully through some thick brush. Clarice heard the sound of rending fabric and shrieked. “Och! My dress! Tis torn now. I would not have come all this way in my fine wedding dress if you had told me this mysterious plant was so deep into the woods!” Her face was burning with anger. What was she thinking following Ealasaid while in her wedding dress? She had worked so hard on it! The lass had planned this!

  “You wanted this, did you not? You wished to ruin my dress. Why, Ealasaid?”

  The lass turned on her abruptly and glared with her bright green eyes, hatred gleaming in their depths. “You are a murderer!” she pointed at Clarice and accused.

  Clarice gasped and shook her head, clutching her hand to her heart. Confusion and panic caused her legs to quake beneath her. “What? Whatever do you mean? I have never…I would never—”

  “Do not lie to me, Clarice! You killed your husband when you learned that Jeoffrey was back in Alba! You wished to find him and marry him!”

  “You are mad, Ealasaid!” Clarice was shaking with rage and fear. What was this? Why would she say such things? Her accusation sounded all too familiar and a cold dread spread through her veins as all the blood rushed from her face. She could actually feel the chill of horror run down her spine just before her fingers went numb.

  “Where did you hear this nonsense?” Clarice asked carefully, holding her breath and desperately trying not to panic.

  Flipping her straight red hair over her shoulder, Ealasaid pointed a finger in Clarice’s face. “Your true husband’s brother told me!”

  Her head spun and she stumbled on a root. Clarice found purchase against a towering oak tree and tried to breathe. “Gregory? When did you see Gregory? Listen to me, Ealasaid. He is a dangerous man. He will tell you any lie to get to me!” Panic consumed her. This was not happening. She looked around frantically, jumping with a shriek when a crow abruptly flew out of the oak tree above her head and cawed forebodingly.

  “So, then you do know him? He told me you may deny it all, just as you are. He says you are to be tried for murder back in your own village. I could not allow Jeoffrey to marry a husband killer!” Her voice grew low with the pointed accusation. “You were so very close to trapping Jeoffrey with your lies, but I found you out!”

  “Nay, Ealasaid…you have it all wrong. Bring me back!” Just as Clarice was about to take matters into her own hands and flee back home to Jeoffrey to tell him the threat of Gregory lurking about, a strong hand came down hard on her shoulder, causing her to scream with fear as she was knocked to the forest floor with a jolt.

  “Greetings, dear sister.” Gregory’s menacing dark gaze bore into hers and his cruel lips sneered as he kneeled to her level.

  “Nay!” Clarice thrashed and tried to push him away, but he caught her by the hair and pulled her head back until she cried in pain.

  “You promised not to hurt her!” Ealasaid shouted when Gregory lifted his right hand back and violently smacked Clarice across the cheek
, causing her to whimper in pain and cower beneath him. His beatings were all too familiar. She knew she had no choice but to curl into herself and pray for him to stop. Her scalp seared with pain but she refused to rub the tender spot and show Gregory he had hurt her.

  “You’ve done your part, wee lass. Go now, before I take you with me, as well!”

  Ealasaid stepped back in fear and shook violently as she locked eyes with Clarice.

  “What have you done?” Clarice whispered to Ealasaid as blood trickled out of the corner of her mouth.

  “I…I…” Ealasaid stuttered and stepped back another step before stiffening her spine. “I only did what must be done. This is part of your punishment for killing your husband.” Then, the lass looked away abruptly, as if she could not stand to see Clarice being beaten before her eyes. Coward. She lured Clarice into this trap and now she could not bear to watch her well-laid plan come to fruition.

  “Be gone with ye, lass!” Gregory shouted, making Ealasaid jump with fright. “Remember to tell Jeoffrey you saw his bride run off into the forest with another man. It wouldn’t be the first time.” He laughed harshly and scooped Clarice up and over his shoulder. She wanted to fight, to scream and pummel him, but she knew better after so many times trying to best him in the past. The harder she fought, the worse he would beat her. And any scream she let loose would be lost in the wind from this distance. The festival would have started by now and Jeoffrey was most assuredly looking for his bride, never knowing she was bloodied and flung over the large shoulder of his own cousin.

  “My son!” Clarice screamed suddenly as reality smacked her in the face. “You cannot take me from my son!”

  “Where you are going lass, you should be grateful he is safe with his father now. Unless you wish him to burn alongside you.” His threatening words made her stomach roil at the thought and it did not slip her notice that he knew Jeoffrey was her son’s true father. What else did he know? She may never see her Wee Jeoffrey again, but he was safe. All the fight left her as she went limp, feeling the blood rush to her head as she hung over Gregory’s shoulder.

  “Tell my son and Jeoffrey I love them!” Clarice shouted over his shoulder to Ealasaid, doubting her message would ever reach either of them. In the back of her reeling mind, she heard Ealasaid let out one last frightened shriek before she ran out of the forest and back to the festival, no doubt pleased with herself for having removed Clarice from Jeoffrey’s life.

  Blackness threatened to consume her, but she fought it. Nay. She would not be a weak woman. She would stay alert and await her chance to escape.

  Feeling her body being raised from his shoulder and dropped hard onto the back of a horse, she scrambled to sit up straight just before Gregory mounted behind her and wrapped his strong arm around her waist. So far, escape was looking bleak. Her only hope was that Jeoffrey trusted in her love enough to not believe the lies. He would come for her, and he would kill Gregory.

  “Did you think you could run away from me so easily, Clarice?” Gregory’s hot breath grazed her neck as they rode slowly through the dense forest. She stiffened to keep her body away from his as much as possible. He was a foul, loathsome man and just the smell of him made her wish to gag.

  “My offer still stands and I suggest you think about it before we arrive back to Caledonii. Either you marry me and keep the rights of a wife, or you will be my slave and I assure you...you will perform all the duties of a wife without the protection afforded to one.” The blackness threatened to pull her under again, and this time, she allowed it to take her away. Curse being a strong woman. She would need to be strong later. For now, she needed the numbness of the beckoning darkness, otherwise her breaking heart may very well burst through her chest and kill her instantly.

  Chapter 8

  “Clarice, tis time, mo chroí,” Jeoffrey opened the door to his home in a hurry, all patience lost. He had waited long enough to call Clarice his wife. He could not wait to see her in the beautiful dress she had been working on for a sennight. Then, he could not wait to tear it off her and see how it looked pooled around her ankles on the floor as she had naught else on.

  “Clarice?” He stepped inside further. The hearth fire was burning and her dress was no longer folded precisely on the bed. She must have dressed and left already…but where to? He had told her he would come to fetch her.

  Wee Jeoff walked in behind him, looking ready for the wedding with his shoulder length brown hair combed meticulously and his new crisp white tunic and beige trousers, all made to perfectly match Jeoffrey’s garments. “Jeoff. Where is your mama?”

  The wee lad shrugged. “I saw her walking with Ea…la…said,” the lad struggled to pronounce the name.

  “Ealasaid?” That was odd. He knew that Clarice had made an effort to befriend the lassies of the tuath, but Ealasaid had been a thorn in his side since the first day he arrived. He wrinkled his nose distastefully as he thought about his wife hanging around with the gossipy, clingy red-haired lass who was always on his tail. The one time they had been alone together, certainly by no will of his own, all she had done was stare at him as if he had something hanging out of his nose. He had not…he had checked. But alas, she had continued to stare.

  “Well, let us rescue her from the clutches of that…” he stopped himself before he said something unkind in front of his son. It was his place to teach the lad respect for women. “That…woman,” he finished.

  “Look! Tis Uncle Alastar!” Wee Jeoffrey shouted and pointed straight ahead. Then his nose crinkled and he tilted his head. “What is he doing to that woman?”

  Jeoffrey cringed and groaned when he saw his best mate with his face buried in the very ample bosom of one of the village lassies wearing a dress cut much too low. Could the man control himself, ever? “He is…er…he is…Och. I am not at all certain what he is doing.” It was all Jeoffrey could say to his son as he glared daggers at his best mate.

  “Alastar!” he shouted as they approached. Alastar looked up at him with a proud grin and the lass tilted her head back to laugh. “Can you not do that?” he whispered through clenched teeth and looked down at his son.

  “Och, I am sorry. She believed herself to have lost a pendant down her…well. I was only helping her find it.”

  “With your face?” Wee Jeoffrey questioned and cocked his head to the side curiously.

  Jeoffrey stifled a laugh but kept his composure as he raised a brow at Alastar, silently challenging him to come up with an appropriate response.

  The woman laughed again, clearly already deep into her mead for the evening and she began to swerve away from the group.

  “Ahhh…aye. Well, it was quite dark down there you see…and I…er…needed to get much closer to help her look.”

  Jeoffrey smirked at his mate and snorted. Normally he would box his ears, but this was his wedding night and nothing was going to ruin this night for him. Not even his philandering best mate.

  “Have you seen Clarice?” Jeoffrey asked, desperate to not only change the subject, but to get on with his wedding.

  Alastar shook his head and took a large gulp of ale. “Nay. I thought she was with the other lassies.”

  “Aye, Wee Jeoff said he last saw her with Ealasaid.” Alastar crinkled his nose and Jeoffrey grunted in agreement.

  “Exactly. Have you seen that wee banshee?”

  “Banshee?” Wee Jeoffrey asked as he looked up to Jeoffrey. “A banshee is an ugly, screaming creature.”

  Now it was Alastar’s turn to snigger at him and shoot him a challenging look. He really did need to be more careful how he spoke in front of his son. “Aye, I meant…beauty. Wee beauty. I am looking for your mama.”

  Wee Jeoff nodded, thankfully accepting that correction in his language. He really did need to find his bride. Walking toward the gathering hall, he kept his eyes narrowed as he searched the crowd for Clarice’s beautiful mane of brown waves. It was dusk now and the fires had begun to be lit across the village, which meant soon a wall
of smoke would cloud his vision entirely, making his search even more difficult.

  Bumping into Agnes as he maneuvered through the crowd, he stilled her by her shoulders before she fell over. “Agnes, have you seen Clarice? I cannot find her.”

  She frowned and shrugged. “Aye, I saw her last in your home. The four of us gave her a wreath of flowers to wear in her hair. Then we left.”

  “All four of you left?”

  “Ealasaid stayed behind to speak to her privately. I know not why exactly, but I believe she felt worse for being particularly unkind. Mayhap she meant to apologize?” She shrugged again and turned back to the other lassies, who were laughing and drinking mead around a raging fire and listening to some story a man told.

  Irritation grew within Jeoffrey…and not a little dread. Something felt off. Clarice would not have taken off on him…would she? Old wounds began to ache as the memory of his first realization that his intended bride had left with another man four years ago began to bubble to the surface of his mind like a cauldron ready to boil over. But, nay. They had overcome that. She had explained to him what had truly happened and he believed her. She must be here.

  Ealasaid. He must find that lass. Everyone he spoke to said she was with Clarice last. If the lass had said or done anything to spook his bride, he would personally see her banished. He did not truly have that power…but he would try.

  Grabbing Lili less than gently, he spun her around to face him. She gasped and spilled her ale down her dress. “Och, I am sorry, Lili.” Panic was rising in him with every moment that passed. Mayhap she had run off…nay. Nay, nay, nay. “I must find Ealasaid,” he shouted into her ear over the increasing noises of the crowd and horns playing in the background.

  “Ealasaid?” she asked with a crinkled brow. “Do you not wish to seek your own bride?” She looked ready to kick him in the bollocks for seeking the wrong woman, and he stepped back reflexively and covered himself.

  “I have been told that Clarice was last seen with Ealasaid.”