Curse of the Celts

by Clara O'Connor

  The trees were bare in the winter landscape, making me feel vulnerable and exposed. A thick holly bush was my best option and I crawled into its hollowed centre, feeling like a coward as I waited for Marcus to return.

  But I couldn’t touch my power no matter how hard I tried, so what use would I be to anyone? I felt blocked, but how could that be? It had to be something I ate or drank last night at the feast. In all the excitement of the night and the revelations about the baby, I had failed to notice it, but now I felt that same slightly blunted edge that I had experienced at the hands of the council in Londinium. I had been surrounded by friends – well, maybe not quite friends, but not enemies either. Who at Llewelyn’s table could have slipped something into my food or drink to cut me off from my powers?

  “Cassandra,” the hushed call came from nearby. Marcus was back. I extricated myself from my hiding place.

  “Marcus,” I hailed him as he walked further on in search of me. I ran over to him. “Did you raise the alarm?”

  “Yes. The ferryman has a way of signalling along the coast. They’ll be on their way now.”

  “How long before they get here?”

  “I don’t know. They’ll be faster than us once they’re on the move because they will be travelling in the light, but it’ll take them time to gather their forces.”

  “They’ll be too late.”

  “We could go closer,” he suggested. “Whoever attacked the druids is probably gone by now. I should check to see if I can help.”

  Anxiety was gnawing at me now. Devyn had been gone so long. I needed to know what was going on. Even if the attackers were still there, we could keep out of sight until help came.

  “I’m coming with you,” I stated. I would not be talked into staying behind a second time. Marcus’s eyes met mine. Something flickered in his – a moment of hesitation. I readied myself for an argument. He seemed to resolve it for himself and put his hand out for me.

  With my own horse having gone gods knew where at this point, I had to clamber up in front of Marcus. The light of the burning buildings scorched the dawn sky as we made our way closer to the community by the beach.

  We climbed a hill to the sound of flames crackling and cries of pain, eventually coming to a circle of great oaks at the crest of the hill. It was the centre of druidic ritual and bodies lay fallen by the great rock in the centre.

  I made to get down to see if we could help, but Marcus restrained me.

  “They are beyond our help,” he said.

  “You can’t know that.” I squinted at the forms on the ground. In the low-lying mist of dawn, it was impossible to tell whether they were dead or if we could still aid them. I pulled free and slid off his horse, racing across the clearing to where several druids lay. I turned the first one I came to. Dead. His face was frozen in a grimace of pain that was clearly visible in the pale morning light.

  “We need to get down there,” Marcus urged, still not engaging with the fallen bodies. I had moved to the next body and the next. They were all far beyond our help.

  I hesitated, assessing the site below. We were useless without our magic. We were close enough to see the buildings now and they were almost burnt out. Soon there would be nothing left but the wreckage of what had once been a druidic centre of learning and healing. Where was Devyn? The anxiety that had been nagging at me since he left now scraped its way up my insides and screamed for attention. Whatever had happened here, it was over. Some of the tall ships out in the bay had started to set sail. Several boats piled with what must be half a legion of sentinels were making their way out to them with what was likely the last of their troops.

  “We’re too late,” I managed to get out, surveying the catastrophe that had unfolded beneath us.

  “What about the mistletoe supplies?” Marcus asked. “We should check if they can be saved.”

  I surveyed the scene of nearly total devastation below. Most of the buildings were burnt out and bodies lay strewn on the ground. We were far too late. Nothing had survived down there. I scanned around for Devyn. Where was he?

  “Dammit, Cassandra.” Marcus exhaled. “We’ve got to get down there.”

  “There’s no point. The mistletoe will already be burned. We’d be putting ourselves at risk for nothing.”

  “I’m afraid the point is that we have an appointment to keep,” he explained grimly, advancing towards me.

  I backed away on instinct, my mind struggling to comprehend what was happening, but aware that I needed to put space between myself and my friend.

  I shook my head, backing up until I hit the central altar stone. I raised my hand as though I could prevent him from coming any closer by sheer power of will.

  Marcus had betrayed us. Marcus had done this. I didn’t know how or why but I knew.

  I whirled around and started to run, hampered by the gown I had worn to the ball and in which I had planned to be married. I was betrayed by the cloak that had warmed me as I rode through the night to a wedding which had never been part of Marcus’s plan.

  My cloak was caught, and the abrupt stop choked me about the throat and pulled me back. I landed on my back, stunned by the momentary strangulation. Marcus was on me in seconds, and while I was still blinking, had pulled my wrists together and tied them as I started to thrash. He was going to take me, take me to those murdering legions, back to Londinium.

  I screamed through the bond. Devyn, where are you? In the borderlands the bond had conveyed my fear to him despite the handfast cuff’s interference.

  Marcus pulled me from the ground as I continued to thrash and do what I could to make it difficult for him to propel me along.

  “Shh, Cassandra. Hush, be calm.”

  Marcus held me still and waited, waited for me to submit to his wishes. To realise I had no choice. Without my magic, I was defenceless against his superior strength.

  “I need you to come with me. It’s for the best.”

  I let myself go limp, allowing him to pick me up off the ground before I did the only thing I could think of and lifted my knee to where it would do the most damage. I took off as he curled to the ground with a suffocating noise. I ran as fast as I could through the circle and down the other side of the hill, back the way we had come. I ran but I wasn’t fast enough. He was already behind me; I could hear his horse gaining on me. I took a look behind me to see how close he was, but he was already right there. My foot caught on something in the ground and I fell clumsily. I sobbed in frustration.

  He dismounted and came to stand in front of me.

  “Cassandra, it’s time to go home. It’s for the best.”

  “The best? For who?” I snarled as he pulled me up again only to throw me headfirst over his horse. He mounted behind me and clicked the horse into a trot.

  “I’m sorry,” he said over my back. “I did what I had to do.”

  “Traitor!” I accused, my voice muffled as I spoke from my ignominious position thrown over the horse like a sack of wheat, watching the ground as the horse made its way up and then down the hillside. I wriggled and pushed in an attempt to dislodge myself from its back.

  “Stop,” Marcus ordered, lifting me by the waist of my dress to rebalance me in a way that left me less leverage to get off this blasted nag. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

  Hurt myself. I’d bloody kill him.

  Marcus had set us up from the beginning. It was no coincidence that we were here this very morning and that Devyn and I couldn’t reach our magic. Marcus had planned it. He had prepared our bags, and no doubt every drop of water we had consumed on the way had been spiked – if not at the feast itself too, where he would have had every opportunity. Just like when we had travelled out of Londinium. I gasped. Was he the one who had poisoned Devyn?

  Step by step, we got ever closer to those waiting ships. The fire from the burning buildings heated the very air we passed through. The churned-up ground that was all I could see showed traces of blood and debris, bearing witness to whatever had happ
ened here. I caught sight of an outflung arm, blood trailing along it and pooling underneath its owners unmoving hand.

  “Damn,” Marcus breathed, momentarily stilling the horse before he picked up speed. The motion unbalanced me slightly, and there was suddenly more weight on my front; with each bounce I managed to put a little more of my body over the horse. If I could shift my weight a little further over… Hopefully, I wouldn’t break my foolish neck. I timed my effort with the bouncing of the horse and then, with everything that was in me, I launched myself off the side of the horse. I landed on my head, my body tumbling heavily in the mud.

  Winded, I checked to make sure I still had use of all my faculties. Hurry, hurry, get up, I urged myself as I felt rather than heard the horse’s hooves slow down as Marcus reacted to my near suicidal tumble. No time to think – no time for anything. I needed to get away.

  I scrambled to my feet and, gathering my wits, tried to figure out my next step. Buildings were burning all around me, collapsing, sparks flying, with bodies lying still outside what remained of their homes. I snatched a glance behind me. Marcus had wheeled his horse around and his face wore an expression of shock and annoyance at my escape. But, surprisingly, most of his attention was focused beyond me.

  I checked behind me in the direction of his gaze.

  Gideon, my brother and a handful of warriors were careening down the hill towards us.

  Marcus could come for me, but could he manage to bundle me back on that horse before they arrived? Unlikely. His horse whickered, pulling his head against whatever Marcus was doing to his reins. Marcus cast a glance behind him to the beach and the pier where a lone rowboat waited – for him. For us. My mind scrambled to process it. He had known they were here all the time. He had lied and he obviously hadn’t raised the alarm while he was gone. Where had he been? What had he been doing? And where in Hades was Devyn?

  Dread was a stone in my stomach. There was no one else coming. My brother was here with just a handful men to stop Devyn and me; Gideon must have told him after we left. But they were alone. There weren’t enough of them, and if the Empire had a chance to kill the poorly guarded King of Mercia…

  Marcus wheeled around and rode towards me. I stumbled out of his reach and he halted, putting himself between me and the approaching Mercians.

  “Cassandra,” Marcus said as he dismounted carefully from his horse, “come with me.”

  “What have you done?” How could he have brought such destruction down on this community? And why?

  “The mistletoe.” He edged towards me. “I have to help the people. This illness kills so many in the city. I have to use it to help everyone.”

  I shook my head, again stumbling back and watching the oncoming riders behind Marcus. They were coming, they were coming. I just needed to stall him a little longer until they got to us. If Marcus decided to make for those ships and let them know that the ruler of Mercia was here, protected only by a paltry guard, it would be a disaster. I needed to keep him with me, to make him feel like there was enough of a chance that he could take me before the Mercians reached us. As long as those troops were on their boats, we would all be away before they could get back to shore and pursue us.

  “That’s why I’m here. The Britons aren’t dying from it and we needed to figure out how,” he explained gently, coming closer and closer, even as the shouts of the men riding on horseback towards us could be heard. They were coming.

  “You got what you came for then. What do you need me for? Just go. Leave me here.”

  “I can’t. I promised that you would return with me.”

  “Promised who?” Who had he planned this with? The council? The praetor? They had killed his father. Why would he have continued to work with them? “I don’t understand… You were lying? From the beginning?”

  He shook his head, still edging slowly towards me. “No, that night in the tower… You were right. Calchas planned to have Devyn attack you. My father was brought in to bear witness, but instead he convinced the praetor of a new plan. He persuaded him that if we could discover how they were treating the ill here in the Wilds, he would be able to end the plague in the city. Calchas agreed but only if I brought you back too.”

  “How were you ever going to do that? I would never return there. I would never leave Devyn.”

  “I know. I think… my father was the one who gave Devyn the poison. I’m sorry, I didn’t know at the time, but it must have been him. It acted slowly enough to allow Devyn to see us north, but quickly enough to ensure that he would not live to see midwinter.”

  And without Devyn and my charm I should have all too easily complied with Marcus’s desire to return to Londinium, if only the handfast still worked the same here.

  I backed up a little further, swallowing down the bile that threatened to choke me. Another minute, that was all I needed. “So Calchas defied the governor in letting us go? But as soon as we return, Actaeon will have us killed.”

  “No, with the medicine to help those afflicted by the Malledictio, Calchas will be more powerful than the governor himself. He will protect us.”

  “How could you?” I indicated the broken, bloodied bodies strewn on the cold ground around us. “You exchanged our lives for those of our people.”

  “These are not our people,” he sneered. “Our people are dying in their hundreds in the city. All you care about is your precious Devyn. And your magic, and your family. All you ever think about is yourself.”

  He looked behind him. The riders were nearly at the outskirts of the buildings. With a grimace, he mounted his horse, ready to ride to safety before my rescuers reached us.

  “What about all the people you left behind? Did you ever once spare a thought for anyone beyond your gods-damned self, Cassandra?” he accused.

  “Catriona!” I could hear Gideon and my brother shouting now. They were here. I was safe.

  I shook my head at Marcus, but was he so very wrong? I hadn’t looked back on my old life once, not really.

  “You can’t leave,” I raised my arm, the sleeve falling back to reveal the cuff. He looked back to see what I meant, his face flashing a momentary concern.

  “They can remove it,” he informed me, and with a glance at the quickly approaching horses, he offered his hand to me to go to him. “You have to come with me.”

  I shook my head in disbelief. An almost hysterical laugh escaped my lips. “I don’t think so. I’ll go ahead with our plan and get it off by marrying Devyn.”

  He looked to the boats waiting at the pier. He took hold of his reins as the sound of the approaching horses grew louder.

  “Cassandra, they have Devyn.”

  “No, no, you’re lying.”

  I searched inwardly, reaching for Devyn. It was faint but I could sense him now, he must be nearby. His emotions were a steady beat of anger and tension. He was trapped. Marcus was right; they had Devyn.

  I twisted to look over at the shore, blinking at the sight before my eyes. No, it couldn’t be. A dark figure stood amongst the sentinels on the pier. Matthias. Marcus’s father was alive.

  And in the last remaining boat, bound with his arms behind him and held by two guards, was Devyn.

  They had Devyn.

  I ran, ran towards Marcus and away from the warriors riding to my rescue. Marcus’s strong arm swept me up and we were away and galloping along the beach.

  The thud of the horses in pursuit was close behind. They were gaining but we were already pulling up and jumping off the horse at the pier.

  I was tackled to the sand, and the air went out of me as the solid weight of my assailant flattened me to the ground. I tore at the hands holding me, struggling to get away, fighting to get to Devyn.

  “No!” I screeched, tearing, writhing to get free of the arms that loosely held me. Gideon’s grimly determined eyes snagged with mine and I managed to scratch my way free of him. Gideon. It was always Gideon getting in my way.

  Pulling myself to my feet in the dragging confines
of the ruined velvet gown, I had barely made it two more feet before the same set of arms wrapped themselves around me, caging me in. I stilled. I was no match for the thickly corded arms that held me tight.

  Matthias’s voice boomed out across the water as the boat was held at the end of the pier.

  “An exchange. We’ll give your man back, but we want the girl.”

  My brother’s voice rang out behind me.

  “Never.”

  Matthias raised his gun and pointed it at his prisoner.

  “Last chance.”

  Gideon remained silent, unmoving as I clawed like a wild thing to get free of him.

  “No, wait!” I screamed.

  Matthias fired… and the world paused.

  There was the crack of gunfire and Devyn’s eyes catching mine. There was a pulse of pain through our bond and then I saw Marcus reaching for Devyn.

  Blood. Lots of blood.

  The guards pushed Devyn over the side of the boat as I watched in horror. The splash as he was submerged beneath the water.

  I reeled at the images. My soul splintered. I couldn’t feel. I couldn’t think.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Gideon was running, and there were more shots snapping as the rowboat pulled away from the pier. I collapsed unsupported. The pain I felt through the bond was immense. Panic. Despair,. Was it mine or his? It was impossible to separate them.

  I felt sand under my knees. Saw Gideon running along the pier. More shots. The waves were impervious, closing over Devyn. Gideon was in the water, another warrior was diving in, and the sentinels’ shots were too far away to hit them now. Rion was leaving me, wading out into the water. Bodies came in on the waves. Came closer to the beach.

  Devyn, they had Devyn.

  I was on my feet, fighting the waves to get to them. They half lifted, half dragged him onto the beach. There was so much blood, red on the sand.

  “Devyn…” My hands were reaching up to capture his face. He was still here, still with me. His eyes fluttered open. My hands pulled wide his shirt, tracking down his chest to that great gaping wound just below the Mercian sigil.