Forgotten Fate (Sisters of Danu Book 3), page 14
Everyone else huddled together to stave off the chill of the cave, waiting in silence to see the relics for themselves. After several minutes of waiting, with wind howling through the cave entrance and the gravel crunching under their shifting feet, Aldwin arrived, slowly dragging each relic along the dirt. He was grunting with exertion, as the weight of each object must have been too much for his old, frail body to handle. Brocc, Garreth, and Liam stepped forward to help Aldwin, disappearing into the shadows with him. When they came back into the light, each man held a different relic in his hands, observing them with obvious wonder.
Aldwin looked up at the golden Cauldron in Liam’s hands, clearly impressed by the man’s ability to carry the solid gold object as if it were no more than the weight of an infant. “Dagda’s Cauldron,” Aldwin said as he pointed to the object. It was only about two feet in circumference, but it was an ornately embellished object with six different faces of the gods carved around the entire side of the gold surface. “This cauldron was one of the relics that the Tuatha de Danann brought with them upon migration to Ériu. It is said that the holder of this cauldron never walks away unsatisfied, as its magic forever sustains its contents. Bring this along with ye and ye will never go hungry.”
Liam looked down upon the relic in his hand and quirked a brow. “Tis empty,” he said with a sarcastic grunt.
Aldwin giggled. “Aye, for now it is. It requires water created by a magical source. Once filled, any food or drink that the holder requires shall be delivered. One of the Sisters of Danu has the power to create and control water, aye?” Aldwin asked, looking around at all the gaping faces staring at the cauldron.
“Aye, my wife, Gwynneth.” Liam glared in her direction. She looked back at him with a scowl, then pulled her eyes away quickly, focusing on the cauldron once more. It was clear to all that Gwynneth was only angrier at Liam now that she had heard the sacrifice Freyne had made for their daughter, and his assistance with Aldwin and the relics. Liam flinched as if struck and focused his eyes back on the cauldron.
“She must fill this cauldron, and ye and your family will travel with full bellies.” Aldwin rubbed his own concaved stomach, appearing not to have been filled in ages. “Dagda was the son of Danu, the very goddess that created ye. She was the Mother goddess of all the Tuatha de Danann. This cauldron is nary two thousand summers old, belonging to one of your eldest ancestors. Now it is back in your hands.”
Una stepped forward, ran her finger along the cold gold and smiled. It was truly a beautiful creation, a testament to the Danann and their artistry.
“Who holds the Spear of Lugh?” Aldwin asked as he turned around to look at Brocc and Garreth. Brocc stepped forward and brought the spear into the light of the cave, its golden tip gleaming in the light of the sun. Its long stem was solid gold and intricately engraved with beautiful designs all the way around the base. Nearing the tip of the spear, the long golden handle was topped with an intricate circlet, also made of solid gold and containing more engravings. From that circlet protruded a gleaming golden spear tip, seemingly as sharp and untarnished as the day it was created. Brocc turned the spear in his hands, feeling the gold etchings beneath his fingertips.
“This spear is said to never miss its mark. Whomever the holder is aiming for, is guaranteed to never escape its aim. Furthermore, as long as the spear is within the grasp of its owner, he cannot be defeated in combat. Legend warns that the owner must not be selfish and attempt to live as an immortal, carrying the spear around to elude death. It will only protect its owner from death during times of battle or danger. So use it carefully and only as needed.” Aldwin looked up at Brocc to make sure he was listening. When Brocc looked back down at him and gave him a nod and a smile, Aldwin nodded back and continued. “Lugh was one of the first High Kings of the Danann,” Aldwin nodded to the three kings in his cave. “The last three kings, before the fall of the Danann, were brothers who shared the power. Those are the kings you three descend from.”
Aislin was staring at Aldwin in awe. She had never seen him so serious, nor did she ever expect him to know so much information about the treasures…or about anything, really. He seemed frazzled and forgetful much of the time. The rest of the time he was either giggling incessantly about nothing, or falling into a fit of depression over losing Dana. This was a new side to him completely. “How did you learn all of this?” she could not help but ask.
“My dearest Lin,” he said with a crooked grin. “One does not seek out a treasure for a thousand summers without knowing the legend behind it. Besides, as a faery, this is my history as well. Most faeries know these details. As for me, I have obsessed about them for ages. Tis who I am. I am a lúchorpáin. Some faeries have the Sight. Others are shapeshifters. Tis in the blood of a lúchorpáin to seek out treasures and gain knowledge of their origins.”
He smiled again, feeling proud and then giggled. There was the Aldwin she was used to seeing, and she smiled warmly back at him, trying hard to contain her own giggles.
“The last relic…” Aldwin said with a sigh, as if it was finally sinking in that he would have to part ways with his coveted treasure, “is the Sword of Light. It belonged to the very first king of the Tuatha de Danann, Nuada. Once it was drawn from its sheath, nay foe ever escaped it. Tis said that it glows in the face of danger, not only alerting its master to an impending attack, but luring the enemy to its power. Once the enemy approaches, however, he will never escape.”
Garreth ran his finger along the gold blade of the sword. It gleamed off the light streaming in from outside as he turned it over and admired the jewel encrusted hilt. Small diamonds, rubies and emeralds sprinkled the surface, winking at him as the rays of sun bounced off their precious surface.
Aldwin looked at the three relics held by the three kings and lifted a finger in the air, remembering something important. “There is one more relic, but you see, tis so large and a part of the earth now, I cannot have ever collected it. Tis the Stone of Fal, which resides on the hill of Tara where your battle will likely commence. Legend says the stone lets out a cry whenever the true High King stands beside it. My instincts tell me that these relics will work best once they are reunited on that hill.”
Aldwin sighed in resignation. “My loneliness since losing Dana has been an endless void, one that only hunting for these relics had ever quelled. They could never replace her in my heart. Never. They simply served as a diversion.” He eyed the ruby brooch, turning it over in his hands and remembering a long-ago day of happier memories.
“These relics are yours.” He cringed at the impact of his own words. “I cannot keep them from their rightful owners. Use them well and may they secure your victory. Keep them safe and pass them down to your children.” He nodded with a forced smile, his sad eyes crinkling at their corners. “They do not belong hidden away in this dark cave. And as I plan to return to the faery world soon, I have nay use for them. Here,” he held out Dana’s brooch with a shaky, wrinkled hand. “I promised to return this to you upon the return of my treasure, but since I am relinquishing the relics, tis only fair to keep my word.” He held it out high in front of Gwynneth’s gleaming emerald eyes and she could see how his gaze met hers, as if he was seeing Dana once again. He intentionally avoided Ceara, and Aislin supposed it was because her mama’s resemblance to the love he lost hurt him more than he could bear.
Gwynneth tore her gaze away from his and looked over her shoulder at Una and Ceara, a question in her eyes that they understood immediately. They both nodded in agreement and smiled at her in acceptance. “Nay, Aldwin,” Gwynneth said as she looked back at him and placed her palm beneath his hand, forcing his fingers to fold over the ruby brooch. “This treasure, just like the relics, has also found its home. My sisters and I want you to keep it. We are thankful for all the information and aid you have given. Without a doubt, you have helped secure the safety of our family and a victory for Tuathal Techtmar. Please keep the brooch and bring it home with you.”
His gray eyes danced with happiness as tears ran down his cheeks. He looked down again at the brooch and held it to his heart, nodding his head in silent thanks. “I heard Dana made it back to the Otherworld, searching for me. That was many, many summers ago and I have aged so much since then, being stuck here in the human world. Freyne has offered me a great gift, the gift to return to Dana…even if she will not have me. And ye have offered me a great gift as well. I want to return it to the hands of my love.”
Aislin was so overcome by the emotions in Aldwin’s eyes. She walked up to Aldwin and wrapped her arms around his frail neck, feeling his white beard rub against her cheek. “I will miss you, Sir, I mean Aldwin.” She pulled back and looked at him with a frown on her face.
“Sir,” he said with a nod. “To ye, I will always be Sir.” She smiled again and hugged him once more, wiping her own tears away. As she pulled back, she realized her entire family was standing behind her, apparently awaiting their own turn to thank Aldwin for his help and say their farewells. She felt a twisting in her heart as it flooded with a culmination of feelings.
Foremost, she felt a sense of loss. She would never see her old childhood companion again and it made her feel like a new chapter of her life was unfolding. She felt relief as well, for she had been successful in bringing her family here to meet Sir and obtain the treasure. That was very much due to Freyne, and she hoped that her uncle Liam would give Freyne a chance.
But, there was something else she was feeling, deep inside her heart. It was pride. As she watched her family surround Sir with praise, thanks, and acceptance, she felt an overwhelming feeling of pride to belong to such an extraordinary family. To think that she once rejected the legend of their heritage and defied her mother’s claims. Looking around at her family, she knew how blessed she was to have been born into their legacy and she swore right then to live up to it, to never let her family down. Sir had given her this gift; he had first shown her the truth of her birthright and now, with his gifting of the relics, he had provided them with, not only a piece of their past, but with protection and a fighting chance.
With one last hug from Aislin, Aldwin bowed dramatically, as only Aldwin could, and he stepped into the shadows, disappearing from Aislin’s life forever.
Chapter 13
Eoin’s black mare blazed through the forest, sending up leaves in her wake and cracking twigs under her massive hooves. “Hurry Banshee!” he shouted into the thick night sky as he leaned forward in his saddle, desperate to reach Coraindt with all haste. His head ached like a demon and he had had to wrap it up with some torn off linen from a sheet to stifle the bleeding. But, there was no time to worry about his injury or the weakness that tried to consume his body.
When he awoke on the floor in Treasa’s chamber, he had been naked and Treasa was gone. He had pulled on a pair of brown trousers and his white tunic, and then stumbled out of the chamber dizzily, holding on to the walls to guide his body into the living area. He could only remember a large man standing before him, then nothing but blackness. Someone must have taken Treasa. She would never have allowed him to lay unconscious on the floor naked, bleeding from the head, if she had been around to care for him. But who would take her, and why?
As his hands helped guide his weak body through to the living area, he heard a sudden muffling and shuffling coming from his left and he spun on his heels, only making himself dizzier. He put a hand up to his head and felt the fresh, sticky blood still oozing out of his wound, matting his dark blonde hair. He saw Katriona tied up in the corner and forgot about his wound. He flew across the room and yanked the gag out of her mouth. Her gray hair was strewn about her face, her bun dangling from the back of her neck as if someone had yanked her head back while holding it. Bastards. Her green eyes were blazing with panic.
“They took her!” she had shouted, her voice shaking. Her eyes were rimmed with red and tears drenched her cheeks, snot streamed from her nose. Her hands and legs were bound and she had no way to wipe her face as she sobbed.
Eoin reached into his boot and pulled out his dagger. “Who took her? And how long ago?” he inquired as he cut through her linen bindings. He was trying to control the shaking in both his hands and voice, but fear for his wife consumed him.
“I-I do not know!” she cried as she rubbed her sore wrists. “Two men. One huge, giant of a man, and one young man, about your age and size. He seemed to be the other man’s leader. They forced their way in and tied me up. Then they stormed into your chamber and—”
“Cracked me over the head with the hilt of a sword, aye,” Eoin said with a grunt as he helped Katriona’s weak body up off the floor and onto a bench. He could still feel blood slowly oozing from his wound. He would get nowhere if he did not take care of himself first. He stormed into the first bedchamber he saw and tore a large strip of linen off the bed sheets. Walking back into the living room, he looked at Katriona as he tied the linen tightly around his aching head.
“Are you alright?” he asked, wincing as he tied the knot in back of his head. The scent of honey and roses wafted toward his nose as he wrapped his wound. These sheets must have been from Treasa’s usual chamber; he had not noticed in his haste which room he had entered, but the scent of his wife wrapping around his head made his stomach clench. He had to find her. And when he did, she had better be in the same condition he had left her in, or else heads would roll.
She nodded her head and wiped her nose on her linen apron. “Aye, but I am so worried for Mistress Treasa! Why would anyone take the poor innocent lass?”
Eoin grunted as the image of her being kidnapped by large, dangerous men ran through his mind. “I do not know, but I must go find her. How long was I knocked out?”
“Nay more than an hour,” she sniffled. “I heard the younger man say that his father had told him this daughter of a Sister of Danu was a beauty. And the larger man called him, ‘my lord’. Tis all I heard. He must be a man of consequence, and he and his father knew exactly who she was. That is all I know.”
He nodded and rubbed his stubbly jaw in thought. “If I ride quickly, I may find her. Although I have nay idea which direction they fled. Curse it all!” he shouted, balling his fists until his knuckles turned white. He pushed open the entrance to the house and squinted up to the sky. It was the dead of night, stars twinkling high above with small patches of clouds drifting along. Tracking the men in the dark would be nearly impossible, Eoin thought with a groan. The ground was dry and the horses would not have left much to see, in any case. So many men on horses came through the village, he would never know whose tracks were whose.
“Eoin…” she said in a warning tone. “You have nay idea where they are or how many men will be with them. They are dangerous men. Best you seek help. If they wanted to harm Treasa, they would have. I cannot know their plans, but they must mean to keep her alive and safe, for now anyway. Get yourself help!” she urged.
He paused and looked at the older woman, feeling horribly guilty that he had been in his chamber ravishing his wife, for the hundredth time in three days, while Katriona was being gagged and tied in the living room. “Curse it!” He grunted and punched the wall. “I am so sorry, Katriona. Treasa and I have been horrible the last few days. We should have been out here with you.”
She shook her head and smiled. “Nonsense. You are a newly wedded couple in love. Nobody could expect anything different. Go find your wife…with help from her family,” she emphasized.
That had been hours ago and now, as Eoin and Banshee tore through the countryside at a breakneck pace, he kept his eyes alert for any sign of Treasa’s kidnappers. Who would take her? It made no sense. The larger man him called him “my lord,” according to Katriona. Was he a king from another tuath? Mayhap an ally to Elim Mac Conrach hoping to gain an edge by capturing the enemy’s daughter? It made sense, but not much. What good would it do to steal her once her father had already left to join forces with Tuathal? Her father would not even know his daughter was missing…unless…that was it! They were counting on Eoin going to her family to seek help. He cursed under his breath. Unfortunately, he did need their help. Without knowing where they were or how many men they had, there was no way for him to find her alone.
The moon was still shining above, but soon it would fade away as the sun began to make its claim on the sky. He had been riding for hours now, and exhaustion and hunger threatened to carry him away from consciousness, but he had to push forward, even if his head throbbed and he felt dizzy from blood loss. Their family was on their way to Coraindt to seek out the treasure of the Danann and to gather Garreth’s army. They must have arrived by now. If he just pushed forward for a few more hours, he would get there by the next night…for Treasa’s sake, he had to.
“Well, that was certainly a lot easier to achieve than we imagined!” Ceara said with a sigh of relief as the family gathered around the dining table, preparing for their evening meal.
“We can thank Freyne for that, can we not?” Gwynneth raised a brow and shot a look at Liam, who was glowering at her from across the table. Once again, she had intentionally sat as far away as possible from him, still unforgiving of his behavior. He missed her touch, the scent of her, the way she would place her hand on his thigh under the table, teasing him with her hands as he tried to keep a straight face. He missed her laugh and her conversation. It had only been two days, but it felt like the longest two days of his life without the companionship of his wife.
Truth be told, after hearing Aldwin declare that Freyne was responsible for procuring the treasure for them, he had started to warm up to the idea of Freyne with Alyson. He obviously would not give up on her, and had Liam not told Eoin that he would never marry one of his daughters to a man unwilling to fight for her? Freyne certainly was a fighter; not only a well-honed warrior, but a man of strong will and conviction. His main fear had remained, however, that he would take Alyson away to the Otherworld forever.
