Born of Fire

by Kella McKinnon

  This was it. If she didn’t find Angus before morning, she would go to the well. She no longer had a choice. If she made it, and the door to her time was still open somehow, then this would be the last she saw of this place, and the last she saw of Bridei. She was more than a little afraid that she had already seen the last of her uncle.

  Bridei dried the sweat from his brow with a rag before using it to wipe down his sword. He often spent his evenings in front of the fire, sharpening and honing his weapon until it shone. Until it could slice through flesh as readily as slide through air. A good weapon, after all, was a man’s life-blood.

  “You’ll cut yourself.”

  Bridei startled. “What?”

  Domech pointed to the blade in his hands, which he was still rubbing with the rag in an unconscious rhythm. One that was glaringly similar to sex. He sighed and shoved the sword back into its sheath before facing Domech with a defensive glare.

  Domech smirked and looked pointedly at the obvious bulge in his pants. “You still want her, I see, or else you’ve become suddenly enamored by your blade.”

  There was no point in denying it; Domech knew him too well, and there was nothing subtle about this particular moment, anyway.

  “Aye.”

  Domech nodded, as if he had already known. Because he had. Bridei had practically been using his sword like an extension of his cock.

  “What is your plan, then?”

  “Plan?”

  “To win her. I’ve never seen a lass less likely to fall at your feet than that one. In a good way though. She’ll likely never bore you.”

  “I don’t have a plan. I have no intention of winning her. I don’t want a woman. And why are we even speaking of this? She may well be our enemy.”

  “I don’t believe she is.”

  Bridei shook his head. “You have no proof.”

  “No. And yet I’ve never seen you look at a lass in such a way before. Not in all the years of your manhood. Either the gods are testing you, or she is meant to be yours, or perhaps both. Tell me, what is it that you see when you look at her?”

  Bridei paused, and when the next words left his lips, he was glad that he and Domech had always been closer than brothers. Had always shared everything. Trusted each other with even their most secret thoughts. There was no other man on Earth he would tell these things to. “When I look at her”, he said just above a whisper, “When I close my eyes to sleep and my mind drifts to her, I see my future. I see my children. I see the rest of my life.” He frowned and shook his head again. “But that is madness, of course. She is attractive, and I am a man. It’s natural to want to mate with a beautiful woman. Perhaps I only have too much on my mind. After all, the coming months will either be my glory or my downfall.”

  Domech slapped him on the back with much affection. “Your glory, I’m certain.”

  “Let us hope so, for all our sakes.”

  “And then you can finally wed. My grandfather used to tell me the story of the day he met my grandmother. He was walking through a village that he’d never been to before and saw her there, washing laundry in the river with a few other lasses. She looked up, and the moment their eyes met he thought to himself, that’s my wife. That’s the lass I’m going to wed. And he did. He never gave up until she was his. And her former betrothed was dead”, he added.

  “But it’s different for me. It’s always different for a king. For any ruler. My people must always come first.”

  “It doesn’t have to be one or the other. There is no law that says so. And even if there was, you could change it”, Domech pointed out.

  Bridei shook his head again. “I will worry about such things after I’m through fighting for my lands.”

  “But what if she’s the one? The woman the gods intend to be yours? And what if she’s no longer here, when the fighting is finally done?”

  “And what if I find out she is a spy after all?” Bridei countered.

  Domech shrugged. “I told you I don’t think she is, for what it’s worth. Neither does Meara. But I understand your caution, of course. I suppose I would do the same. I just have a feeling that something is happening here that is beyond our understanding. This all has the feeling of destiny about it. Yesterday two ravens landed on the Gateway Stone, so you can’t tell me that…”

  “The lass is missing!” Both men looked up as Namet barreled down the stairs from above. “Lotex is too.”

  Bridei stood suddenly, feeling the very breath leave his body. No.

  Namet held out his palm. There was a small knife lying there. He recognized it as the one he kept in his chamber to shave with. “I found this next to the ropes.”

  She wouldn’t have…would she? His nostrils flared, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. He had left her alone, and she had taken his knife. All because he could not control his own damned lust. Fury filled him like an ocean wave; for her escape, but also for his own unforgivable weakness.

  “Do you know which way she went?”

  “Aye. To the west. The forest. Do you want me to send out a search party?”

  He headed for the door. “No. I’ll go after her myself.” The need to find her burned sudden and hot within him, like a flame touched to a bucket of pitch.

  Bridei had never felt the particular combination of emotions that flooded him as he made his way to the stables to fetch a horse. Rage. That one was right there near the surface, but just a little deeper was a nebulous cloud of sadness, disappointment, and betrayal. Had he really hoped she was just a lass who was travelling with her uncle? He supposed he had. But now he knew the truth. She had taken his own prized stallion to ride to Ecgfrith. He was sure of it. Had she learned anything of importance? Had he let his guard down so much? Oh aye, he most certainly had.

  And to think he had wanted her in his bed as he’d never wanted a woman before. A woman who had been sent for that very purpose, to seduce and betray him. His disgust at his own weakness only further fueled the rage burning in his veins. He would find Nessa of Fife, certainly Not a Goddess, and she would die at his hands. Perhaps he would even send her head back to Ecgfrith.

  It didn’t take him long to find her following her ill-concealed trail, but she wasn’t on the road to Ecgfrith’s lands, after all. She was riding slowly through the forest and making enough noise that he could have tracked her even without the light of the moon.

  “Angus! Angus please answer me. Where are you? I need you! You can come out now. Everything will be ok, I promise.”

  The sound of her voice echoed through the silent trees, though it was obvious she was trying her best to call softly. She suddenly switched from Pictish to the strange tongue he had heard her speak before, and though he couldn’t understand the words, there was a note of desperation in her voice that made him pause. She wasn’t just calling for her uncle, she was talking to herself out loud, and by the sound of it, very near to sobbing.

  “I can’t wait much longer, Angus. I don’t know where you are! Angus please! I don’t know how to get home without you. I miss Gram. This has gone on long enough!”

  He moved silently closer, watching her, biding his time, knowing with certainty she had no hope of escaping him. His horse stepped on a twig and the snap echoed loudly. Nessa turned, her eyes frantically scanning the trees until she saw him. Her face was limned in moonlight, her eyes wide and dark and filled with shock. At first her whole body seemed to sink in defeat and she looked as if she might burst into tears. But then she took a deep breath and drew herself up tall, resigned to whatever fate befell her.

  He urged his horse forward, and she stayed still as he approached. She wasn’t going to run, even though she had to know what must happen. Smart lass. He would have caught her before she had gone ten paces. He circled her slowly before drawing his mare to a halt.

  “So…you are a horse thief now.”

  Her eyes widened in horror, as if she hadn’t even thought about what she had done until that very moment.

  “No
! I only borrowed him, I swear! He was in the field, and he came up to me…and I thought I could just…”

  “Just what?” Bridei struggled to keep his voice even. “You thought you could just take my horse?”

  “Borrow!”

  “Borrow implies you had permission. You did not.”

  She dropped her eyes, and he could see the rapid rise and fall of her chest as she tried to overcome the panic that must certainly be rising there. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

  He came up beside her, and grabbed her by the waist, lifting her effortlessly to sit just in front of him. He knew his arm around her ribs was too tight, and he was probably hurting her. He could feel his own fury in the flex of his muscles. His whole body vibrated with it.

  He leaned forward and spoke softly, ominously, near her ear. “I believe you know what price a horse thief must pay.” And now…now he would be forced to do what he had so fervently hoped against.

  This time, it was Nessa who stood in front of the crowd next to the blood-soaked alter, but the crowd was eerily silent tonight. She was shaking. Her throat was so tight that she couldn’t breathe, and her thoughts were whirling around so fast in her mind that she couldn’t focus on a single one. Bridei stood behind her, one strong hand locked around her arm. Was this really how she was going to die? In a time not her own? With not one person who would mourn her? At the age of only twenty-four? It didn’t seem fair. She had felt, somehow, that she had so much more to do before she left this world…

  “I wonder what I could have done with my life, had I lived longer”, she whispered to herself. A tear slipped out of the corner of her eye and rolled down one cheek. Maybe Gram would already be waiting for her. That, at least, was something. She clung to that thought as the only comfort left to her.

  It was her turn too soon. She was led up onto the altar by Bridei himself, and there she stood, looking out over the faces of the people in front of her, flickering in the firelight. Most of them were familiar now, some more than others, but there was no cheering, no chanting by the priests in the ancient language. People exchanged uncertain glances and a few whispered to each other. Nessa could feel the strange tension in the air even above her own fear. Something was wrong.

  She felt the cold metal of the blade against her throat and she cried out in shock. Then she steeled herself and stood taller. The only thing left to do in this life was to die bravely, and that’s what she intended to do. Gram had always told her that if you have to do something you’d rather not, at least do it boldly.

  Just before she squeezed her eyes shut, she saw someone pushing forward through the throng of people. Long white hair and a dress of dark purple emerged from the shadows and into the light. Meara.

  “Don’t, Bridei!” It was more of a command than a plea.

  The force of the blade against her skin eased just the tiniest bit. “Who are you to tell me how to punish a criminal, woman?”

  Meara stood tall before him, meeting his stubborn gaze with one of her own. “I’ve seen the future this night, my King, and this lass is a part of it. The gods do not wish her dead, at least not yet.”

  “She stole my horse.”

  “She is a stranger here and doesn’t know our ways.”

  The crowd seemed to hold its collective breath, waiting to see what the King would do. One man came forward from the rest. “Do it! You are commanded by the gods to uphold the law! The woman must die.”

  “Stand down, Sten. Meara has said the gods do not wish her death. Now I must decide, am I beholden to the law or to the gods themselves?”

  “Both!” Sten said, raising his fist in the air. You are beholden to both! And to your people! How many more will commit crimes if they see their King is so lenient? Do not be weak!”

  Bridei shot him a look that was as cold as ice, but he did not rise to the bait.

  Nessa still held her breath, and the sound of her heart beating in her ears was nearly loud enough to drown out everything else, try as she might to follow the discourse. Time seemed to both slow down and speed up all at once, as if reality was fading in and out of her grasp. A tiny whimper escaped her throat. Would she live or die?

  Meara held her hands out now in a gesture of pleading, her face turned up to look at the King. “Bridei! You must listen to me in this matter. The gods need her alive for their purposes, do not work against them!”

  Nessa could feel the tremor run through his powerful body as he warred with his decision. A long time passed, or at least it felt that way to Nessa. She felt the change in him the moment he made his judgement.

  “Mercy”, he said.

  The knife left her throat and Bridei stepped away from her, and Nessa let out her breath on a long, trembling sigh. The whole crowd seemed to sigh with her. The King had called mercy. She was saved, for now. She never fainted, but this time, she did. The world started to spin and her vision faded, and the last thing she was conscious of was the heavy thud of her limp body on the darkly blood-soaked platform.

  Bridei walked back to the broch, his arms full of soft, unconscious woman. He hadn’t been able to do it. He hadn’t even wanted to. Did that make him weak? Maybe. But nearly all of his people had cheered when he’d called mercy. For some reason unknown to him, they hadn’t wanted her to die, either. Perhaps the gods really did have a hand in it. What purpose could they have for this lass, that they would not let him take her life?

  He was almost to the broch when she jerked awake with a sudden scream. He tightened his arms around her to keep her from falling.

  “Shhh…you’re all right. I have you.”

  “Am I dead?” she whispered, still not fully aware of her surroundings.

  “No. You are very much alive.”

  He held her just a little bit closer and his body hummed where it touched hers. How had he ever thought he could have seen her dead at his hands? It would have devastated him to do it. He would have never been the same, if he had had to carry the memory of her blood on his hands. Still, he had been prepared to do his duty, even as the deepest part of his soul cried out against it.

  “I just wanted to find Angus”, she mumbled softly, her eyes closing again, then squeezing tight. “He’s all I have…”

  Sten was behind him, following closely at his heels all the way up the stairs of the tower. “You should have killed her, Bridei. Nothing good can come of letting her live”, he said, but Bridei ignored him.

  When he reached his chamber, he laid Nessa carefully down on his bed, and Sten was still there, annoying fly that he was. This wasn’t the first time Sten had challenged him, and it likely wouldn’t be the last.

  “I beg you to reconsider, my King. She stole your horse!”

  “Borrowed.”

  Sten threw up his hands in a gesture of irate disbelief. “Borrowed? No one borrows the King’s horse!”

  Bridei sighed and threaded his fingers through his hair. He had enough to consider without this bothersome man plucking at his conscious. A conscious that was already eating at him from all directions. By rights, Nessa should have died this night, and he knew it. But in his heart of hearts, he also knew she was meant to live.

  “Leave, Sten. I will not defy the wishes of the gods. To do so would be foolish. Do you want their wrath to come down on us?”

  “But…”

  “Leave!”

  As the door slammed loudly in Sten’s angry wake, Nessa sat up suddenly, drawing in a sharp breath and finally fully conscious. “What happened?”

  “You fainted, Ashta.”

  “No, I couldn’t have. I never faint.”

  “You were about to die. A good enough reason to faint. Don’t worry, I don’t find you weaker for it.” No, she had stood there like a warrior, head held high and ready to die among strangers with all the honor she could muster, even though he could feel the frantic pounding of her heart beneath his hand. Brave lass.

  She started to lay back down—obviously exhausted and still in shock—then suddenly sat back up
with her eyes filled with horror. “Wait, are you going to kill me later?”

  “No. I’m not going to kill you, but I want you to know that I’ve broken rules for you. Rules that should never have been broken.”

  Everything had changed. Because of her. Because of him. Because the scent of her was one that tugged at his mind like a distant memory and would not leave him, even when he slept.

  He slowly sat down on the edge of the bed. “Will you tell me now who you are, Nessa of Fife, Not a Goddess?”

  She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I can’t.”

  “You can’t? Or you won’t?”

  “I can’t. It’s nothing personal. You just wouldn’t believe me, and I really don’t want to die. For any reason.”

  “I said I wouldn’t kill you.”

  “Not for borrowing your horse, anyway.” She paused. “Thank you for that. For not killing me. And I am sorry about borrowing your horse. I just wanted to go home. I thought if I could find my uncle, he would take me back.”

  Back to the man she loved, perhaps? Bridei’s gut clenched, even though he knew he shouldn’t care. He had no claim on this woman, nor did he seek one. Still, he realized he didn’t like the thought of her not being here. And he didn’t like the thought of another man touching her in any way. It made him want to fight. And kill.

  He forced his teeth to unclench. “Your man that waits for you, what is he like?”

  Her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “He’s handsome. And kind. Gentle. He loves to surprise me with little gifts. He wants nothing more than to spend the rest of his life with me.” The tears spilled over rolled down her cheeks.

  “So you knew him then, before your journey. You wanted to wed him.”

  “I did…I guess so…”

  “I see.” Bridei got up and walked to the door, leaving her on the bed. “Rest now, but do not try to leave again. I… I will keep you safe.”