Chapter Eleven
The weather outside was frigid and the air had a sharp bite to it that stung Flynn’s ears and nipped at his nose. He was used to such weather, but he feared the elements were not at all suitable for Maggie to travel in. She rode with her brother, slightly behind him and to the left, but Flynn could not help turning in his saddle every once in a while, to make certain she fared well.
“I am with her, Flynn. You need not check on her well-being every moment,” her brother groused. Flynn and Àdhamh had been good companions since the man came to Ráth Mór from Alba, yet he could not blame the man for his ire. Flynn had no wee sister, but he would likely be just as protective if he did, even though none of this was his doing. Although Àdhamh’s suspicions were, in fact, warranted, given that Flynn did bed the lass… and he likely would have again had her brother not barged into the hut at that exact moment.
With a frustrated growl, Flynn turned back around to face the front, a puff of cold breath escaping his lips. He wished to speak to Maggie, but he needed to do so in private. Before their brothers had both burst into the hut, Flynn had been about to confess to Maggie that he wanted more with her, a possible future. Could he make it so? Would Tuathal allow him to continue his services in a different manner? Though Tuathal was family and knew that love for a woman was essential in life, few men in Ráth Mór were capable of what Flynn was. Could his king allow him a new position in his service? He was not certain, but he was prepared to ask.
That was, however, until Maggie closed off to him the moment her brother arrived. She refused to even look him in the eye. Had she been so prepared to lose him that she never allowed herself the opportunity to grow as attached as he had? He was more than attached. He was irrevocably changed by the powerful love he felt for the lass. He was ready to give up aught just to keep her, something he never thought he was capable of. Her brother stood by like a sentry, waiting to pummel him if he came too close, but Flynn would find a moment to be with her; he had to.
“So…” Brennain said suggestively with a raised black brow.
“So?” Flynn repeated calmly.
“Were you really teaching her self-defense? It appeared you had your hand up her skirt and—”
“Enough!” Flynn groused. “Do not speak of her in that way.”
Brennain’s other brow went up to meet the first in clear surprise. “Och, you are mighty protective of her. I will take that as an ‘aye’.”
“An ‘aye’ to what, exactly?”
“That you have fallen for the lass.”
Flynn bit his bottom lip and turned his face away from his brother. This was not a conversation he knew how to have with anyone, but especially not with his brother, who vowed to never love a woman and spent as much time chasing skirts as he did servicing his king. Brennain could not possibly know what it meant to love a lass. Maggie was no ordinary lass. She was brilliant, compassionate, loving, humorous, skilled, caring… all the very best qualities in the world.
“Your silence speaks volumes,” Brennain said knowingly. “You can speak to me, you know. I may understand more than you think.”
That made Flynn shout with laughter, startling his horse. He patted Arawn comfortingly and rolled his eyes at his brother. “That feeling you experience after bedding a lass and collapsing on top of her, while you are sweaty and heaving with exertion?” Flynn said mockingly to his brother, “That is not love, mate.”
His brother reached out and punched him hard in the shoulder. “You believe ‘tis all I know of loving a lass?”
“Aye.”
“Nay. Do you not remember Morna, from Alba?”
Aye, Flynn remembered the blonde healer from a small village named Miathi on the coast of Alba. They had taken a boat across the sea to retrieve a few warriors from Alba. It was on that journey they brought back Jeoffrey and his wife Clarice, Alastar, Àdhamh and Maggie. He would never forget the first time he set his eyes on Maggie. She was so bonny, yet so timid. Flynn knew even then that she was special, but her brother protected her fiercely, as he did now, and Flynn had hardly had a chance to speak with her. It was only when they arrived home and he discovered Maggie would be their new healer that Flynn began to feign injuries, just so he could be in her calm presence. A ridiculous smile spread across his face and his brother punched his right shoulder again.
“Ouch! Stop that!”
“Nay. You were dreaming of a lass, I am certain of it, and it had better not have been Morna.”
“I was not dreaming of Morna!” Flynn scoffed, and punched his brother back.
“So, you admit to dreaming of a lass?” Brennain chuckled.
“What? Nay… I did not.”
“Would you two quit bickering like old hens?” Àdhamh bellowed from behind them. “The wind carries, you know. We can hear aught you say. Tell us Flynn, who were you dreaming of?” Àdhamh’s voice was laced with a warning, and Flynn rolled his eyes and made a mocking face that only his brother could see. Brennain burst out in laughter.
“I will remember that when we stop, Mac Greine. I can see your ugly face.”
Flynn only laughed and decided to ignore Àdhamh. There was not much he could say to the man to appease him at the moment, and no sense in trying. He was a grown man and Maggie was a grown woman. What they did or did not do in their own private time was their business alone. Unlike most men, Flynn did not boast of his conquests, nor would he ever view Maggie as such. ‘Twas best to remain silent and keep their focus on the road.
The snow was so thick in some areas the entire world seemed to be white, except for the pine needles that showed through in some areas. It also meant enemies could hide behind trees and not be seen until it was too late.
Ráth Mór was only a few more hours away yet with the harsh weather conditions, Flynn knew their progress would be slowed. He hoped they would not require an overnight stop, but if they did not make good time, it would be necessary. It had been late morning when they left and if all went well, they would be home by sundown.
The jostling of the horse made his wounded side throb, but it was much less pain than he had felt over a fortnight ago. Maggie had a true gift and he could not help but feel proud of all she had accomplished during their time together. He wondered if she felt for him, as he did for her. And though he was afraid of the truth, he needed to find out.
“As I was saying,” his brother cut off his musings. “Morna.”
“Aye… Morna,” Flynn responded and gave his brother the side-eye.
“I cared very much for that lass. My time with her was short, and I never even laid with her, but she meant much more to me than just a passing lass. I will likely never see her again, but I do know what it feels like to care for a woman, brother. I am here if you ever wish to speak on it.”
Speaking so seriously about lasses with his brother was odd and uncomfortable. Part of him believed Brennain was only setting him up to share his heart so he could laugh at him later. Either way, he was not ready to discuss his feelings for Maggie with anyone, until he discussed them first with her. “My thanks.”
“All right. I can see you will refuse to talk. I will let you keep your silence, for now.”
Brennain did not know the meaning of silence, but Flynn decided it was a small victory and he would leave it be. He was desperate to get Maggie back to safety and out of this cold.
* * * *
Àdhamh held her tightly around the waist to ensure she was safe on the horse they shared. She truly did not wish to speak to him. She was not entirely mad, but he did persist in treating her as a wee, incapable lass. She was anything but. Maggie was a grown woman in her own right, a healer who saved lives. She did not need to report to him or to anyone else. The way he treated Flynn grated on her nerves, yet she preferred not to get involved. The more she pushed the issue, the more her brother would recognize her love for Flynn, and the more he would question.
“I know something goes on between the two of you, Maggie. I wish you would share with me.”
“There is nothing to share, brother. I helped him to heal and while we awaited Brennain’s return, he taught me how to protect myself.”
“Aye,” his brother responded gruffly. “Which means you shared your past with him. You have never told another man about your past or your fear of men.”
“I have never been forced to live with a man for over a fortnight. I was quite afraid of him in the beginning. Flynn is a kind man and I quickly learned to trust him. Aye, I did tell him of my fears and their origins. He listened and decided that he would use our time together to help me feel more confident in protecting myself. ‘Twas his way of paying me back for my aid… not that I required it. But it was a mutually beneficial situation. He is healing quite well, and I do not feel as if I need to be so frightened every moment of my life. I say you owe Flynn your gratitude, not your ire.”
Àdhamh made a guffaw sound that only intensified her annoyance with him. “Elwynna lived with you for a while before you wed. How is it any different? Should I have been angry with her for being alone with you when I was not around? Because I am a lass, you can be angry that I am alone with a man, yet I cannot be mad that you were alone with a lass?”
Her logic made Àdhamh sputter with indignation. “I… well… ‘tis just different! She needed my help and I gave it!”
“Aye. Flynn required my help and I gave it. I am still awaiting an argument from you that is not one-sided and illogical. You cannot think of one, I assume?”
“I can think of one! Elwynna had nay protector! Her father had abused her! Without me, she had nobody to speak for her. Besides, she was not an innocent!” he stumbled over his words and she could not help but smirk at his sudden hesitation.
“I need not hear anymore. You have nay excuse for your bluster. ‘Tis only your bruised pride. I will not apologize for responding to the call of duty, and I shall do so again if need be.”
“You have changed, Maggie. I have to admit, I do like it.” She could hear the humor in his voice for the first time all day, and felt herself relax and breathe easier for the first time since his arrival. She loved her brother dearly and knew he only meant well, but she truly felt like a different woman now than she had a fortnight ago. She refused to be coddled any longer, and she refused to stand down. Too many years had been spent fearing what others would think of her, or worse, who would hurt her next.
She was by no means a warrior-lass like Aislin, but she felt confident that she could defend herself at least as well as the next lass, and that was thanks to Flynn. They may never be together, and she may feel a slight resentment toward him for his refusal to change his lifestyle to make room for love, but she could not dislike the man for he had helped her become this new, braver version of herself.
Arriving at Ráth Mór only a couple hours later than normal due to the snow, Maggie was more than happy to dismount from the horse after riding through the towering iron gates. Every limb ached, and she was half frozen through. Her brother helped her down, but she had to hold onto him for a moment to stretch her legs. Flynn and Brennain had carried on in whispered conversations ahead of them for most of the journey, and she could not hear most of what they said, nor was it any of her business, though for some reason she ached to be a part of whatever they had planned.
Now that she had tasted freedom, she was not quite ready to go back to her usual, boring life. Aye, she loved to help heal the sick and wounded but aside from that, little awaited her in this village. Never had she felt more alone or restless. And now that she knew what real love felt like, and what it meant to lay with a man, going back to living in the small roundhouse with Elwynna and Àdhamh felt akin to a nightmare. She did not wish to encroach on their life. Though it was quite normal for family to live together in one home, it usually consisted of larger, extended families. She was simply in their way, even if they would deny it.
“We must report to Tuathal and receive our orders,” Flynn said. Hearing his deep voice for the first time in hours made her heart ache. She had grown so accustomed to his presence that even being so close to him all day, yet separated, felt as if a piece of her soul had been torn from her. She supposed she must grow accustomed to living without him. Within days, he would be gone again.
She wanted to look at him, walk beside him, touch him, anything to feel that connection again. Instead, she looked straight ahead and hobbled on her sore legs, using her brother’s arm for support.
“I want to get Maggie back to our home to be with Elwynna before I see the king. I shall join you all momentarily.” Àdhamh held firmly to her arm and virtually dragged her away, as if he knew she wished to linger in Flynn’s company.
“Mags.” She stopped dead in her tracks at Flynn’s low, pleading voice. Àdhamh tried to yank her forward, but she scowled warningly at him and jerked her arm out of his firm grip.
Swallowing hard, she squared her shoulders, reminding herself that Flynn was never, and would never, be hers. “Aye?” she replied as she slowly turned to look at him. That had been a bad idea. The moment his mesmerizing green eyes focused on hers and she saw his scruffy beard covering his clenched jaw, she felt as if her legs may give way. He was breathtaking and her love for him was debilitating.
“I just wanted to thank you for your tender care and delightful company. You made my recovery much more tolerable.” His eyes burned with unsaid words, but she knew he was thinking of their night together and a chill of pleasure ran up her spine. He affected her body in a most shocking way.
She felt her cheeks flushing and somehow, even with the winter’s cold surrounding her, she suddenly felt heat rising up her neck. “’Tis my job, Flynn. I was glad to do it.” It was all she could think to say, especially with her brother’s narrowed gaze shifting between them suspiciously. There was an almost undetectable sadness in his gaze, but Maggie decided she was imaging it, for it had been Flynn who repeatedly reminded her that they could never be more than companions.
Just then their king appeared, bare-chested and heaving as sweat dripped down his chest. Maggie knew Tuathal was a large man and she had seen him many times without a tunic, but this time, she felt no fear and a smile crept up her face. Aye, despite her new confidence and skills, she knew a man like Tuathal could crush or force her, but she had learned more than just self-defense during her time with Flynn. She had learned that men truly could be trusted, and that was a very freeing discovery, considering that her occupation put her in the company of many large, braw warriors.
Swiping his tunic across his forehead to mop up his sweat, Tuathal’s long dark hair stuck to his neck. “There you are. I was just informed of your arrival. I left training to meet you.” His gaze shifted from the men to Maggie and he bowed his head slightly. “Maggie, what you did for my warrior was the bravest thing any lass has ever done. I am very proud of you.”
Her eyes shifted to Flynn and then back to her king. “I only did what was right, my king. ‘Tis my job to heal the wounded.”
“’Tis your job to heal the wounded aye, but to travel so far to do so, giving up a fortnight of your life? Nay, that is much more.”
Àdhamh looked at her and gave her a proud wink. She felt herself flushing. Being the center of attention was never something she enjoyed, even if it came in the form of praise from her king. “My thanks, my king,” she murmured, and nervously rubbed the thin woolen fabric of her dress between her fingers.
Tuathal nodded and drew his attention back to the men. “We have much to discuss. Shall we speak in private?” He jerked his head toward his home, and the men began to follow silently. Maggie turned and walked in the opposite direction, toward her home. She was anxious to take a proper bath, change out of this awful dress, and see her sister by marriage. She hoped Elwynna fared well after all that had transpired. It was not her fault that her father was a violent man, hungry for power. Still, she knew Elwynna paid the price time and time again.
“Maggie.” Her king’s deep voice called to her and she stopped in her tracks, looking over her shoulder in confusion. “I would ask you to join us, lass. This involves you, as well.”
Her brow furrowed. What could they possibly discuss that involved her? She knew naught about Flynn and Brennain’s private mission, aside from the plan to infiltrate Mal’s camp. Sharing her confusion with the king was not her place. Her place was to do as commanded. With a sigh of resignation, Maggie walked toward the men, following them into the king’s large rectangular home. Every other home was circular, but his was crafted with corridors, private bed chambers, and enough beds to hold visitors from other tuatha.
As they entered, the sounds of children wailing filled the room and Maggie’s instincts went on high alert. “Is your babe still not feeling well?” she asked when she spotted Queen Leannan in the corner rocking Fedlimid frantically to stop his cries.
“Nay. Well, in truth, I do not know. He is happy until he eats. Once he is off the breast, he starts to holler for hours.” Tuathal explained. “He seems healthy, but I cannot know why he cries after feeding.”
“May I?” Maggie stepped up to Queen Leannan who gladly passed her screaming child over to her, so she could attend to her other screaming child sitting cross-legged in the corner, banging a wooden toy of sorts against the floor. “Is he well?” Maggie nodded to the wee two-year-old child as she took the babe in her arms.
“Och, nay, he likes to fuss whenever his brother does. I assume ‘tis for attention, but the more the babe wails, the more we have two wailing children. ‘Tis enough to make me wish to run for the hills!” Queen Leannan groused.
Maggie sent her queen a sympathetic smile and lifted the wee linen gown over the babe’s belly. His stomach looked slightly distended, but not to the point of concern. Placing him down gently on the bed, Maggie used two fingers to gently poke around his belly button and abdomen. The child made small whimpering sounds and flinched, but otherwise seemed to be calming down as he chewed on his fist, drool dripping down his arm.
“What do you think is the cause?” Leannan asked as she leaned over and observed her child.
“He has pains in his belly from your milk.”
“What?” Leannan flinched back and clasped her heart. No mother wanted to hear that her own child could not tolerate her milk.
“’Tis something you are eating, my queen. Whatever you eat shall also be in your milk. Most often, ‘tis something most common, such as garlic or buttermilk and cheese.”
Leannan looked over her shoulder at Tuathal with contrition on her face. “Och, I put garlic on everything. ‘Tis the very best tasting herb we have!”
“Aye, that it is. It also is very hard on most infant’s bellies. I am sorry, but I recommend nay more garlic until the lad is able to eat other foods.”
“I will gladly do so if it will make my wee one feel better. To think, all this time, ‘tis been the garlic. Och, I feel awful.” Leannan picked up her now cooing son and cradled him in her arms, whispering sweet apologies while smothering his face with kisses.
Something inside Maggie ached for all Queen Leannan had: a handsome husband who adored her and wee babes to love. These were always things Maggie knew she would never have, therefore she never gave them any thought. Now she loved a man so deeply, she could not help but think of a life as his wife. What would it be like to carry his wee babe within her womb? Shaking her head, she took a deep breath. Such thoughts were foolish and would only lead to greater pain.
“This is precisely why I called you here, Maggie,” Tuathal said, pulling her from her thoughts.
“To help wee Fedlimid?” she asked, turning to face him and the three other men.
“Nay. Well, aye, that is fortunate, and I thank you, but I mean to say that I require your further assistance.” Then he turned to Flynn, Brennain, and Àdhamh to include them all in the conversation. “I am done chasing Mal around. I am done waiting for him to form a large enough army to attack us. He shall never do so, but in the meantime, he is causing us much grief. He is threatening my people. ‘Tis time we gather our warriors and bring the fight to Mal. I want his head.”
“Excuse me, my king, but what does this have to do with my sister?” Àdhamh asked. Though Maggie’s ire piqued at her brother for, once again, speaking for her as if she was not there or had no voice, she was also curious as to what any of this had to do with her.
“I want Maggie to travel with us to Mal’s camp. We will need a healer on hand, in case things escalate, and they likely will, for I mean to put an end to this. She has proven her capabilities time and time again, and she has proven her ability to think under pressure. We need her.”
Her heart leapt in her chest. She knew that a fortnight ago, she would have cringed at the offer to travel with the men. She would likely have shaken with fear and even protested. But now? Now her heart longed to go, to be free to travel outside the walls. She had spent so much of her life cowering behind the safety of her brother and her home. She was ready to move forward. She knew it would not all be pleasant. War was terrifying and men would be injured, or worse. She was a healer, the best healer she knew, if she was honest. She wanted this more than she wanted anything… almost. Her gaze locked on Flynn and she breathed deeply at his penetrating gaze. Did he wish her to stay? Or was he silently willing her to go? She was not sure, but she had to remove Flynn from her decision one way or another.
“Nay.” Her head jerked away from Flynn and she narrowed her angry eyes at her meddlesome brother. “I am sorry, my king, but I cannot allow my wee sister to travel with a group of men. She is afraid of men and she is an innocent. Besides, the village needs her here.”
“Your wife has become quite a skilled healer under Maggie’s tutelage. She can handle things here at Ráth Mór. Do not underestimate your sister, Àdhamh.”
King Tuathal truly believed in her, and that made all the difference. Her heart soared at the opportunity to be more, do more. She could do this.
“Again, I am sorry, but I cannot allow it,” Àdhamh argued.
Something took control of Maggie. She was not sure if it was rage, rebellion, or a sense of betrayal that guided her. Mayhap it was an explosive combination of the three, but she was done standing back silently while her brother made life decisions for her.
“Enough!” She fisted her skirts and flared her nostrils, trying to control her temper. “Do not speak as if I am not here to speak for myself, brother. I know you are used to being my champion and I love you for all you have ever done for me. I am nay longer your ‘wee sister’, I am nay longer afraid of men, and I certainly am nay longer an innocent! From now on, I make my own decisions, and I am going.” She crossed her arms and stomped her slippered foot to drive her point home.
Before she could even process all she had inadvertently confessed, her brother stormed over to Flynn with a growl, planting his right hook into the man’s beautiful face. “I knew it! You cursed bastard! You touched my sister! I should kill you!”
Brennain pushed Àdhamh back, causing him to stumble before righting himself. “You fight one Mac Greine brother, you fight both.” Brennain’s fist connected with Àdhamh’s nose, causing blood to spurt out in sickening rivers from his nostrils.
Maggie watched in horror as the men began to brawl. Flynn caught Àdhamh in the belly. “I do not need your help on this, Brennain!” he shouted, just as Àdhamh’s fist connected with Flynn’s jaw. Flynn staggered back, spit out a wad of blood, and growled as he charged at Àdhamh, knocking her brother to the floor. “You know nothing about your sister, mate!” Flynn shouted as he hovered over Àdhamh’s prone body. “You have lived with her all your life and yet you do not see her. She is not yours to command.” Flynn backed away, wiping more blood from his mouth with the back of his arm. Brennain stood beside him with his arms crossed while King Tuathal looked on with boredom. Apparently, men breaking out in a fracas in the middle of his home was not a startling occurrence. Even Queen Leannan ignored the commotion as she continued to play on the floor with her two sons.
“You care for her.” Àdhamh’s voice was soft as he looked up at Flynn. Propping himself up on his elbows, he brought himself to a standing position and rolled his shoulders before looking at Brennain. “Gods, Mac Greine, you hit hard.”
Brennain scoffed. “Flynn hits much harder. He simply went easy on you.”
“Right,” Àdhamh murmured, pushing his long blond hair away from his face. His hazel eyes shone with an emotion Maggie had never seen before, and she swallowed hard and bit her tongue to keep from adding to the insults. “You care for her,” Àdhamh repeated, looking directly at Flynn.
It was all too much. She was not ready to hear Flynn’s response one way or another. If he denied caring for her, her heart would wither and die, causing her the greatest sorrow of her life, not to mention the utmost embarrassment now that everyone knew she had given herself to him. However, if he admitted to having feelings for her, her heart would only ache for what could never be. They were being sent into a war. Once it was over, she would come back here to continue her work and he would continue to do his work for Tuathal, wherever that would take him.
“I have had enough,” she huffed. “None of you, aside from our king, can command me.”
“I never commanded you, lass,” Tuathal corrected.
“Which is why you are the only man in this room right now that I do not wish to throttle.”
“Hey!” Brennain exclaimed, and his lower lip pouted. “What did I do?”
“You punched my brother!” she hollered, and stomped her foot.
“He punched my brother, first!” Brennain countered.
“Your brother took my sister’s innocence!” Àdhamh roared, pointing a finger in Flynn’s face. Flynn grabbed his finger and twisted it back, making her brother yelp in pain.
Rolling her eyes, she walked toward the door. “You are all fools.” Before she left, she turned to address the room. “Àdhamh, Flynn took nothing from me. I gave him my innocence… nay, I begged him to take it! And I shall never be ashamed. Shame on you, for assuming I should remain innocent my entire life.” Then her gaze landed on Tuathal, whose huge arms crossed over his chest as he smiled in amusement. “King Tuathal, tell me when to be ready, and I shall be. My thanks for the opportunity.”
Maggie wished to slam the door to make her exit more poignant, but remembering two wee children were still within the home, she quietly shut it behind her and walked away from the three most ridiculous lads in all Ériu.