Chapter Fifteen
“I can only serve one master, and I chose the path of a warrior over love.”
~Chronicles of Liam MacGregor
What a foolish notion Liam pondered as he kept his sight on Abela who moved from one wagon to the next. He desired more than her kisses and believed he would never be happy until he possessed her completely. A part of him had always remained fractured. Once she had spurned him, Liam was never fully the same. He sought release with those who never warmed his heart or burned a fire in his soul.
Happiness? A whisper on the breeze—fleeting and inaccessible.
Her laughter filled the camp, and he found himself grinning. The children clustered around her like honeybees, and they were spellbound. She radiated a beauty that could not be contained, filling the area with enchantment.
He expressed his opinion to keep her hidden from these people, but it was not in her nature. She required the freedom to explore, and he doubted any would consider her to be of royalty. Liam had spent part of the evening surveying all the men and women within the camp—from old acquaintances to the new faces in the clan. And he sensed no threat here.
In the twisted adventure they were on, he tried to grasp a sliver of peace. Liam deemed it was only a matter of time before they were captured, but last night came a revelation. A vow to treasure these last remaining days with Abela.
“I have a riddle for you dear children,” her voice rang out through the camp.
The children clapped their hands in glee, giggling with delight.
Abela tapped her finger to her mouth. “This is one that was told to me long ago, so listen carefully. I was meant for the air, but love the ocean. I am from the land, but belong to the stars. Who am I?”
Each of the children gazed at her with the light of youth, trying to determine an answer. Abela blew a kiss across her palm over them. “Ponder the puzzle and let me know if any can solve the riddle.” She moved along the path as the children trailed after her.
“Ye are a blessed man to find a treasure in the woman,” noted O’Malley, nudging him on the arm. “She has honored us to walk among the children and women. The storytellers will spread the tales for years to come.”
If only she was mine forever. “A gem among our realm,” he acknowledged.
“A messenger arrived early this morning with news Peter is unable to get here until Midsummer or the next day.”
The news squashed his contentment, and Liam glanced at the man. “Do you know where he travels? Perchance we can meet him part of the way.”
“Ye forget. I am required to sign the parchment.”
Liam wiped a hand across his brow. How could he have forgotten? His thoughts were on a certain Fae minx. “Of course.”
“Ye can withdraw to your realm for your own feasting and return the next day,” suggested O’Malley.
“Unfortunately, I cannot return until it is in my possession.”
The man surveyed him skeptically. “Is there more ye want to share regarding your journey?”
That my life is at stake, and we’re fleeing from the entire Fae kingdom? “No.”
“Ye are most welcome to join in our celebrations.”
“Thank you for the offer, but I judge it wiser to stay away from the merriment.”
O’Malley inclined his head and started forward.
Liam returned his attention to the princess wandering the area with her wee attendants following closely. Every now and then, one of the small girls would touch her dress in laughter, and their whispered words reached his hearing.
Instantly his features hardened, and he strode across the camp. So focused on her bewitching Fae aura, he had never considered the small children. Reaching for her hand, he pulled her away from her admirers. Words and sighs of complaints were issued from the children, but he ignored their minor protests.
“What is wrong?” demanded Abela, tugging to free her hand from his grip.
He refused to answer her until they were away from prying eyes and ears. Rabbits skittered out of their path as he steadily kept on moving through the trees.
“Liam, stop!”
No! Now be quiet!
Abela yanked hard, finally freeing herself. “How dare you speak to me within my mind. Did I ever give you permission? You’re behaving like a human.”
Liam fisted his hands on his hips. “Humans cannot project their thoughts into each other’s minds.”
“Obnoxious man,” she hissed out.
“Forgive me. I judged it wise at the time.”
Her eyes blazed with fury. “It was not appropriate.”
“Then you will not accept my apology?” he challenged.
“No, because you don’t mean it. Your actions are beneath you and your training.”
Turning from her anger, Liam cast his sight to the valley below and the river. You’re losing control and she’s correct. Quit thinking of possessing her. He let out a frustrated breath and went to a nearby tree for support. He darted a quick glance at her. “The children know you are royalty.”
Abela looked appalled. “You’re wrong.”
“Trust me, they do know, and I’m in error for not realizing it sooner. I watched as some dipped a curtsy and whispered princess to each other. The human children tend to have the gift of sight until they reach a certain age. Then they choose to ignore the images, discounting them as childish faery tales when they are older.”
She maintained her rigid stance. “Regardless, you had no right invading my mind.”
“You are correct. I misplaced my control.”
A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “Do you require aid in maintaining your direction of what a proper Fenian Warrior should do?”
He snorted. “I am positive you will be there to alert me of my misgivings.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “It depends on if you’ll listen to me.”
Pushing away from the tree, Liam shook his head. “I have never stopped.”
She drew near him. “What do you propose we do now that the children suspect?”
“Nothing.” He waved a hand outward. “I’m confident we are safe here with these people.”
“The children are harmless, Liam.”
He pointed a warning finger at her. “They are the young bards here. All listen to them.”
Abela linked her arm through his. “We will have the treaty tomorrow. By evening, back in our kingdom.”
“There’s a snag in the plan.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Do tell.”
“O’Malley informed me earlier Peter will not be here until Midsummer day. Or maybe the next.”
A horrified expression passed briefly over her features. “Then we must spend the evening before here?” Releasing her hold on him, she crossed to the edge of the clearing.
“Would you be more comfortable with the women?”
She shook her head adamantly. “Absolutely not. The heady mix of emotions will be too much for me.”
“Tomorrow is Midsummer’s Eve. If you’d like, I can request that the wagon be taken across the river. It will provide more seclusion away from the festivities. In addition, I will ask for some bread and cheese. We can gather fruit from the land.”
“Yes…yes, that would be more agreeable,” she responded quietly.
He started for the camp. “Good. I’ll go inform O’Malley.”
“There’s one more problem.”
Liam halted his stride and glanced over his shoulder. “I believe we can manage anything, as long as it’s not the appearance of your brother and his guards.”
Her features were strained. “I am unable to magically change my attire.”
He was at her side in two strides. “When did you notice?”
She wrapped her arms around her body as if she was cold. “Several hours ago.”
“And the shields?” Liam held his breath, fearing the answer.
“Holding. Do you think it has anything to do with traveling through the Veil?”
“The magic we possess has no limits.” Liam rubbed a hand down the back of his neck, trying to sort out this latest crisis.
“Apparently mine does here in the human world.” She touched his arm. “Have you ever experienced this weakness?”
“Never. I have all my powers, except for the ones from the Brotherhood. And I cannot fathom why this is happening to you. I can draw no conclusions. Why didn’t you mention this at the time it occurred?”
Abela looked away. “Actually I was stunned, confused, and frightened, Liam. When I was pacing back and forth within the trees after I ate a light meal, some of the smaller children came scampering toward me.” She laughed nervously. “They are so like our Fae children. Carefree, smiling, and full of light.”
“You were carried away by the wee sprites,” he chided, aching to reach out and take her in his arms.
“Yes. They helped soothe the worries, though only temporarily.”
“Would you like me to request a garment from one of the women?”
Abela turned back around and brushed her hands down the front of her gown. “No. I favor this green gown, and it will be easy to blend in with the trees. I don’t want to draw attention with some of their more colorful clothing.”
Liam reached out and traced a finger over the neckline of her gown. “Yet, you have managed to add the ancient pattern of our people in the silver trim.”
She visibly trembled from his touch and took a step back. “It was one of the oldest gowns I could think of wearing.”
“Are any of your other powers dwindling?” he asked.
Shaking her head, she replied, “No.”
Clasping his hands behind him, Liam smiled. “A few more days, Abela, and then we can go home. However, if you sense any other changes or shifts in your magic, do not hesitate to come to me.”
Her mood suddenly appeared buoyant. “Yes, you are correct. I will take this time to honor the land.”
“Excellent.”
Taking a hold of his arm, Abela steered him toward the trees and the camp. “I will accompany you while you make the request for the wagon to be moved. Do you think they can give me some food as well? Come the morning, I deem it wise if I stay away.”
“Midsummer’s Eve,” he acknowledged, lifting a pine branch out of their way. “Yes, I can fetch us some food.”
“Will you be staying within the camp?”
“Absolutely not.”
Abela halted their progress. “Then what are your plans?”
Liam had no intention of falling under the spell of Midsummer or the bewitching minx studying him with her glittering lavender eyes. His gaze lowered, and he yearned to taste those pouting lips. His iron control was beginning to falter. “I will sleep under the stars far away from everything and everyone.”
She arched a brow skeptically. “Where?”
Tapping a finger against his head, he responded, “It’s a secret.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Do you not trust me?”
“I hear a challenge in your question. If I divulge I am nearby, will the knowledge scare you?”
She looked affronted and pushed away from him. “Of course not. I don’t know why you’re being secretive.”
He watched her progress through the trees until she had entered the camp. It was going to be a long two days. As he slowly made his way to the O’Malley’s wagon, Adam emerged from the side, blocking his path.
Liam shifted his stance. “Is there something you require?”
“If ye are seeking an audience with O’Malley, ye must wait.”
“Then I’ll direct my request with you. I require the wagon for Abela to be moved across the river. In addition, if we could partake of some food it would be appreciated.”
The man frowned and scratched the side of his face. “Again ye wish to move the wagon?”
“Yes.”
Uncertainty flickered within his eyes. “I will ask O’Malley.”
“If there is a problem, I will do the chore myself. No need to bother O’Malley with this undertaking. I will let him know I handled it on my own.” Liam didn’t want to debate a simple task with the man and started for the main part of the camp.
“Nae!” shouted Adam, barking out orders for several of the other men to follow him.
His annoyance now tempered, Liam nodded. “Thank you.”
The air was heavy with wood smoke and meat, making Liam queasy. Steadily moving away from the main part of the camp, he came upon young lads playing a game of knucklebones. Their enthusiasm was contagious, and Liam marveled at the competition between two of the boys.
“I dare ye to pick up all five and flip them from the back of your hand to your palm,” challenged a lad with a mop of red hair.
“Can ye do the same?” asked the boy who was challenged.
“Aye,” he boasted.
Watching in fascination, Liam settled himself against the bark of a pine tree. One of the other boys caught his gaze and nudged another sitting next to him. All conversation and playing ceased.
“Do continue,” encouraged Liam with a wave of his hand.
The lad with the red hair shook his head. “Are there any here ye favor?”
Stunned by the lad’s question, he replied, “Why would that matter? This is a game of skill.”
“Ye…ye might use magic on one of us.” The boy peered around the clearing, fearing someone would hear him use the word.
“Aye, he might,” echoed the others in the circle.
Liam shrugged dismissively. “In any competition, the rules of the game are set. I merely wanted to observe. If I favor one lad over the other, it is simply because of their skill. I have no desire to use magic, but to find out who is the champion.”
“Should we bind his hands?” asked another boy.
Narrowing his eyes, Liam shook his head. “Not a wise choice. Would you feel more comfortable if I was not present?”
The lad with the red hair smiled. “If my father doesn’t fear ye, then we will not.”
Liam had already surmised O’Malley was his kin by the eyes, jut of the chin, and mannerisms. “Are you sure?”
His smile faded, and he swallowed. “He says ye should never show fear to your foe.”
“Am I your enemy?”
“No! But…ye are different.”
Folding his arms across his chest, Liam countered, “We are all unique, and I am not your father’s enemy.”
The lad appeared confused. “Then what are ye?”
Liam chuckled. “We have a mutual partnership. Do you understand the word? And I am positive your father has explained who I am.”
“I do,” blurted out another boy. “I ken the meaning.”
“Good,” acknowledged Liam and pointed to all of the boys. “When you are older, remember this conversation. You might have need of my services or another warrior from my realm. You will age and fade from this world, but I and my people are forever beneath the land.” He leveled his gaze on the red-headed lad. “And when you become leader, be very careful who you call an enemy—regardless how different they appear.”
All the boys nodded in unison.
Relaxing against the tree, Liam gestured outward. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to observe this game of knucklebones. It’s been many years since I’ve played.”
The red-headed boy exchanged looks with the other lads and then stood. Approaching Liam, he held out his hands with the knucklebones and ball. “My name is Dylan. Would ye like to play?”
“I thought you’d never ask,” responded Liam in a casual, jesting way.