Forgotten Fate (Sisters of Danu Book 3), page 17
Eoin shook his head in understanding, but he did not feel any of the relief he had hoped to feel. “My wife is missing. We need to find her!” He looked around for any sign of hope amongst his family. Silence fell for what felt like an eternity, but in truth it must have not been more than several seconds.
“We cannot know where they brought her. She is probably at his camp, but more than likely, they are headed to The Hill of Tara, where his father is surrounded by scores of men. We cannot access her, not without our own army.”
“So, we wait until we unite with Tuathal before we retrieve her? NAY! The man can defile her in any number of ways by then…if he has not already!” Eoin shook with rage. There had to be a better way. He stood up abruptly, shoving his mother’s working hands away from his head as he began to step forward, but dizziness took over once again and he wobbled back down to the ground.
Brocc scratched his chin, running his finger over his cleft as he thought out loud. “The Hill of Tara is North East of here. We need to travel east to get to Inber Domnainn, but we cannot get too close to the Hill, lest we get ransacked. If we do, what good are we to Treasa? We must be careful. We simply cannot fend off their forces without our own.” He shook his head and crinkled his brow, trying unsuccessfully to pull a better plan from his mind.
“This was a well-planned attack.” Liam shouted as he punched the table. “They knew we were gone. They must have known we left a daughter behind. They had informants. They stole her from right under us!”
“I am a failure for a husband,” Eoin groaned miserably as he held his head. “I could have tracked them…I should have! But Katriona told me it was foolish, that I would be outnumbered and killed. She convinced me to seek you out…but I should have tracked them!” His anguish was eating him up inside and he groaned with a pain that was much more emotional than physical.
“Katriona was right, Eoin,” Garreth nodded. “Tracking them would have only gotten you killed. You are nay good to her dead.”
“Inber Domnainn is a two-day journey from here. If we leave right away, we can meet up with our troops and march on to the Hill of Tara, which is another two days from Inber Domnainn. Perhaps one day, if we push through.” Liam was squinting as he tried to calculate distances in his head. “I have to believe that stealing my daughter is a strategic battle plan of Elim’s. He will not hurt her. I am certain of it. He will keep her safe until he can dangle her in front of us like bait.” Gwynneth groaned in the background as she imagined her daughter being held hostage and started to sob into her hands once again.
Brocc turned to Una with a look of determination in his hazel eyes. “Go wake up the lads, Una. We leave at dawn. Pack your satchels, gather rations, and prepare to leave. We will get to my niece and see her safely returned. She is a clever, stubborn lass. Tis time for her to put those qualities to good use while she awaits our arrival.”
Eoin closed his eyes and sent a prayer up to the gods to keep his wife safe. He believed they would not kill her while in their custody, but could Treasa keep her body from being hurt, or violated, for the next three or four days before he could reach her? She was clever, aye, but she was also surrounded by lusty warriors. His stomach clenched at the thought of his wife surrounded by so many faceless enemies. All he could do now was put his trust in her survival skills and ride as fast as he could with an army to save her. He sank down deep into the cushions by the hearth, watching the flames wink at him, mocking his failure to protect his wife. He would get her back.
Dawn was only three hours away. Trying desperately to turn off his ominous thoughts, he closed his eyes and hoped to gain a little sleep. He doubted he would succeed, but he had not slept in almost two days and his body needed time to rest and heal before Banshee’s hooves pounded upon the earth once more.
His head spun and his temples ached, but his body fell into a disturbed sleep, filled with desperate screams and images of his wife struggling beneath the black-eyed man.
“Tis time to depart.” A strong hand came down upon Eoin’s shoulder, yanking him away from his deep, yet disturbing sleep, feeling the world of his nightmares pull away as his consciousness entered reality. Ironically, reality felt no more reassuring than his dreams, and the aggressive release of his body from sleep sent waves of nausea through his stomach.
Perhaps it was his injury, his nerves, his lack of sleep, or mayhap it was a combination of all, but Eoin broke into a cold sweat as his stomach roiled. He bolted for a large clay bowl that lay empty on the large stone slab in the cooking area, and wretched his hastily eaten stew from a few hours before into its interior. A few more dry heaves crushed down upon him, causing him to clench in pain, but once it was over, his stomach settled again and his head cleared.
He looked up and saw Liam’s concerned face staring down at him, his lips set in a thin line as he looked at the red rimmed eyes of his son by marriage. “Eoin, you all right, man?” he pounded him on the back and helped him to his feet. “We will find her. Everyone else is packed and ready. Let us be on our way.” He jerked his head toward the exit and started to walk out the open door, Eoin following in his wake.
His family was huddled around the stables, saddles strapped tightly to their mounts and loaded with rolled up blankets and satchels of supplies. It seemed as if all conversation turned off at once as eleven sets of eyes locked onto his. Though he expected and deserved their wrath, he saw no hint of scorn, especially from Treasa’s family. In fact, it appeared that her sisters and parents were being the most encouraging with the weak smiles aimed at him, showing him that no one blamed him for the abduction of Treasa. Not that it mattered; he keenly felt disappointment within his own soul, glowering at him, mocking his abilities as a warrior and protector. He need not fear the scorn of others, for surely his own self-loathing was punishment enough.
The group mounted their horses and started to slowly exit the stalls of the stables, an array of beautiful colored horses, well-fed and ready to journey, clomping their feet through the loose dirt and gravel of the road, kicking up dust in their wake. Nobody had spoken, yet the silence spoke volumes. Nobody would rest until Treasa was found.
The dawn had a biting chill to it, one that stung the skin and turned breath into wispy clouds. It was still more dark than light outside, but the sun was just stretching over the horizon, promising to light their path and warm their bodies within a few hours.
As the party trotted quietly from the stables and down the road that lead out of Coraindt, a lone rider could be seen through the mists just up ahead. The horse was a large white steed, like a mystical creature made of the still lingering fog. The rider was a stark contrast with jet black hair and dark leather trousers and vest. Boots graced his long, muscular calves, made of the finest soft leather. He had a long sword sheathed at his side and a bow and quiver full of arrows slung over his shoulder. He radiated power with his straight, strong back, hair tied into a tidy queue and head held high. Confidence excluded from his very presence.
“Is that…Freyne?” Leannan asked as she squinted through the low hanging fog. “Alyson, look!”
As if suddenly aware of their presence, Freyne turned around on his horse, his green eyes glowing back at them through the mist. He sat completely still upon his horse, unsure if his presence was a welcome one amongst Alyson’s family. He gave a polite nod, and then yanked on the horse’s reigns, jerking its head away from the group and focusing once again upon the road ahead.
“Freyne!” Alyson shouted and squeezed her horse’s side, urging him forward. His entire demeanor changed as Alyson approached. His features became more relaxed and his mouth curved into a wide smile as he reached out to hold her outstretched hand, her soft violet dress billowing in the breeze beneath her thick black cloak.
Hands clasped tightly, Alyson pointed back to her family with her other hand. “Freyne, you must travel with us! You should not be alone.” She pulled at him desperately, trying to guide him back toward her awaiting family.
His body stiffened again. His pride would not allow him to join the group until he was wanted. “Nay. I will not until I am forgiven by your father. You must understand. It is a matter of my honor. But I will be close by, always. I love you, Alyson.” His head shook as hers tilted down in surrender. Lifting her hand to his lips, he gave her one soft kiss and then released her. Her hands dropped to her side in defeat and Alyson began to trudge her horse slowly back to the group, her head hung low. Freyne watched her retreat, his mouth set in a firm line and his green eyes flickering with sadness. His spine straightened again as his white horse turned once more away from their group.
Alyson refused to look anyone in the eye. She kept silent with her head bowed down, her eyes closed as she struggled to control her tears. Freyne deserved to feel welcome by her family. But her father insisted on treating him as if he were unworthy of her love or their respect. Just as she turned to throw daggers at her father with her eyes and speak her mind, she saw him sitting tall on his horse, trotting toward Freyne. Her mouth dropped and her breath quickened as she watched her father approach her husband. What was he doing? Her heart clenched and she worried her father would try to chase Freyne off once more, knowing very well that Freyne’s pride would never allow it. Would a fight break out?
Just as panic overtook her and she began to guide her horse back toward the two men, her mother’s small hand reached out and caught the hem of her long sleeve, tugging her slightly and shaking her head. Her mother was urging her to stand back…but how could she allow this to happen? She could not take it. She jerked her sleeve away from her mother and began moving forward once more, watching them intently through the haze. Was her papa reaching out toward Freyne? Was he going to strike him? Freyne’s hand came out to meet Liam’s…and they clasped.
They were shaking forearms? Alyson could not believe her eyes, and she blinked a few times rapidly, trying to focus through the fog. Her father was nodding his head and…was he laughing? Aye, his head flew back and the very faintest boom of his laughter wafted back to them on the breeze. Liam pounded Freyne on the shoulder and began trotting back toward the group.
Alyson twirled her blonde hair nervously in her finger as she chewed on her lower lip. Her father was shaking hands and laughing with Freyne! Was he accepting him? She was much too afraid to get her hopes up, only to be shot down again; it would be too much for her heart to take. But just as she subdued her own anticipation, Freyne’s snow white mount trotted a few yards forward, through the mist and into the middle of her family with a victorious smile upon his face. His green eyes beamed directly at her, a handsome smirk on one side of his face as Brennain, Eoin, and Flynn welcomed him as he rode past. She was afraid to blink, afraid to break the spell. Was he truly moving freely amongst her family, just as he had when she first brought him home?
The rest of the party started to move on once more toward the guarded gates, but Leannan and Aislin hung back with Alyson, unsure if she needed their support or privacy more. With a heated look in his eye, Freyne’s mount stopped next to hers, so close that his trousers rubbed against the fabric of her lavender gown as he took her hand and winked. Leannan looked at Aislin, who was still gaping widely at Freyne, and signaled her to move forward with a nudge of her head. The lassies moved along, catching up with the rest of the group, allowing Alyson and Freyne to hang back a few yards for privacy.
“What just happened?” Alyson whispered as their horses rode parallel to one another. Her breath escaped in swirly tendrils as she tried to calm her breathing.
“Your father apologized for his treatment of me and thanked me for my assistance. Then, he invited me to join your family.” He looked at her quickly with the side of his eyes, gauging her reaction. She felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from her chest, only a small niggling of apprehension still bore into her troubled mind. Had her papa truly accepted Freyne, for good?
Her cloak blew to the side as a strong gust of wind whipped around her and she pulled her hood over her tousled hair. “Join my family?” she asked shrewdly. “Upon our voyage? Or permanently?”
Freyne laughed and shrugged. “He did not exactly specify. But I would assume those two go hand in hand. I am, after all, already your husband. Best to accept it and move forward.” He turned his head to look in her eyes, and then scrolled his gaze slowly up and down her body. “But, your father was right about one thing he said that night.”
Alyson frowned, remembering the cruel way her father had treated Freyne when he found out who he was. As far as she could remember, nothing he said was even remotely accurate. Her brow crinkled as she tried to think. “What do you mean?” she asked softly, looking completely baffled.
“Our marriage has yet to be consummated,” he said with a wink, making her blush. “We must remedy that, and soon.”
She swallowed hard, her throat physically quivering as she tried to swallow the sudden large lump. She knew he was right, and in truth, she was just as anxious as he was, especially after the moment they had shared the night before. But they were now surrounded by her family with nothing but the wilderness all around for an untold amount of time. “I am sure as soon as we are home again, that will be…nice.”
Freyne just about fell from his saddle at her remark, a snort escaped his mouth as he tried to bite back a laugh. “Nice? I promise to make it so much more than just ‘nice’ for you.” Again, he looked at her with a seductive smirk from the side of his mouth and she felt her stomach clench. How could one look hold so much promise? “And, as for us traveling with your family, we will not always be traveling. There will be many stops. And, every stop has great potential for us to find some privacy.”
“Oh my,” she whispered, imagining her and Freyne sneaking away to make love in the forest while her family made camp only yards away. It seemed so very risky, husband or not. But she did not want to come off as a prude, and it certainly did seem thrilling. Seeing the wicked twinkle in his eye and the irresistible dimple that flashed when he spoke of making love made her forget all of her sensibilities, made her remember his bare chest dripping in sweat and the feel of his hardness beneath his trousers the night before. A shiver ran down her spine and she sighed loudly.
He chuckled. “I have nay intention of waiting until we are home, Alyson. Understand?” He quirked a brow and reached out to squeezed her hand, snapping her out of the images of him in the buff that were floating around in her mind.
“Oh, aye,” she said breathlessly. The emotional connection she shared with Freyne was already the most intense feeling she had ever had. If making love to him would not only solidify their union but strengthen that bond, then Alyson could hardly wait. She squirmed on her horse, but did not make eye contact with Freyne, not wanting him to see her ever-growing blush.
As they left the comfort of Coraindt, ahead of them lay a long, steep and winding road, filled with loose dirt and gravel, leading them to the lush prairie waiting below. The sun had just risen from behind the distant hills, illuminating the world for as far as the eye could see with its powerful rays of light. If only the journey ahead could be as predictable as the road they traveled. Their horses took every twist and turn with ease, having traveled it many times before. But nay, this journey was a unique one, one that would determine the fate of all Ériu, one ordained by the gods, yet filled with danger. Already, one of their own had fallen victim to the war, kidnapped by the enemy.
The moment their mounts reached the bottom of the hill and landed upon the steady, flat lands of lush green grass, the party wasted no time and picked up the pace. The sooner they could reach the rest of their troops in Inber Domnainn, the sooner they could make their way to The High Alter of the High King on the Hill of Tara. No doubt, Jeoffrey’s party would be awaiting their arrival, along with Treasa as their hostage. Alyson looked at her family riding in front of her. Their hoods were thrown back, allowing their hair to flow freely in the wind, and their cloaks to billow out behind them as they all leaned forward, urging their horses on. Eoin was leading the group, his shouts of encouragement to Banshee blowing back in the wind. “Hold on, Treasa,” Alyson could hear his words all around her, as if they consumed the very air they breathed. “I am coming for you.”
Chapter 15
“Wake up, Treasa.”
Treasa wrinkled her nose, but willed her eyes to stay shut. She could smell sweet mint on her face, and she rolled over onto her side, trying to escape the heated breath on her ear. Where was she? The straw mattress beneath her was making her skin itch all of a sudden, and it snapped her back into reality. This was not her comfortable fur-strewn mattress at home in Iverni and the man above her was not Eoin. She bolted upright, her eyes opening widely as she looked around the tent. Hovering over her were the black eyes and dark brown hair of Jeoffrey, the man who had stolen her away and meant to marry her.
Jeoffrey’s fingers tangled in her messy tight blonde curls, running them through the silky strands as if they were a comb, gently working through the snags as he ran their length. It was a very intimate move, one that only baffled her more about her captor. How easily he behaved as if he were her lover, not the man who stole her away by force. “You look so beautiful in the morn.” When she only stared straight ahead without responding, he sat down on the straw mattress next to her. “I do not want you to fear me. You do not, do you?”
How should she respond to this? The man threatened to kill Katriona, Little Duncan, and his name sake’s entire family if she refused to marry him. He cracked her husband over the head with the hilt of a sword and Eoin could still be lying dead upon that very floor for all she knew! Of course he scared her! The man was as unstable as a browning leaf dangling from a branch in the autumn, threatening to fall at any moment, and likely to blow wherever the unpredictable wind guided him. Aye, he scared her.
“Nay,” she said quietly as she shook her head, feeling his fingers still pulling in her tangled curls. Her stomach roiled with nausea again and the tears in her eyes were close to shedding as she thought about Eoin.
