Dragon Knight's Medallion (15 page)

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Authors: Mary Morgan

Tags: #romance, fantasy, time travel

BOOK: Dragon Knight's Medallion
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Before Aileen knew what was happening, Osgar took her elbow, and steered her away.

Stephen was stunned. By the hounds! She actually said she
liked
his hair. And what possessed him to tell her about his brothers? From the moment he took her into his arms, he wanted to flee to some remote part of the woods and ravish her entire body. He had come so close to tasting those berry lips, until they were rudely interrupted.

Clenching and unclenching his fists, he stormed off in the direction of the other men.

****

Betha gave out a small groan.

“Is there enough?” asked Aileen.

“It will do until we reach Grenlee,” she answered as she pulled out the last of the dried meat, berries, bread, and a small portion of what was left of the cheese. “There will be no cooking tonight. I will save the few remaining oatcakes for the morning.”

She nudged Ian. “Take this to your father, and Sir Stephen.”

“Here, take the wine skin and what’s left of the wine, too,” added Osgar.

“You have wine?” asked Aileen.

He leaned in close to her and mischief sparkled in his eyes. “Aye, took it from the cellar before we left.”

“If I had known you had some wine, I would have visited you earlier,” she said with a smirk.

“Is that all it would have taken?” Osgar chuckled, giving a wink to Betha.

“Do not let him fool ye, Aileen. The man has more and will be sharing it at Beltaine,” she laughed, taking a seat next to her.

“Och, I think I can spare the Lady Aileen a cup. It might help to ease some of the tenderness from her body, as well.”

Betha watched as he strode away to fetch the wine. “Did his salve work?” she asked.

“Yes, immensely. It has a warmth to it. Do you know what’s in it?”

“Nae. It is druid based, and druids can be closed-mouthed when it comes to giving out their secrets, especially curative remedies. It seems to be doing wonders for my ankle, and here I thought I understood the healing ways.”

Aileen frowned. “Yet, he is a brother at the abbey.”

“Aye, but always a druid first. I ken he seeks the knowledge of the one God, and found a calling when he arrived at the abbey.”

“Will we truly be safe in Grenlee?”

Betha sighed. “I reckon once we get there, we will have strength in numbers. It should be a time for great feasting, not for planning our defenses.” She shook her head sadly.

Aileen’s thoughts turned to events in history, and she shuddered at the memories of witch hunts across the centuries. She never thought that in her lifetime, she would be battling the same. Taking a look around at their band of travelers, her heart felt akin to their beliefs. Smiling, she realized she would stand with them, no matter what they were facing.

“So will there be a Beltaine celebration?” asked Aileen, as her eyes encountered Stephen’s back.

Betha chuckled, and Aileen snapped her gaze back in questioning. “What?”

“We could not hold back the feasting as surely as the Mother awakens from her deep slumber. I see ye have felt its pull.” Betha tilted her head toward Stephen.

Aileen swallowed, the much hated heat spreading across her cheeks. “I won’t...you think me and...
him
?
Together
? Egads!” She stood abruptly and went to stand against a tree.

“The threads of fate are woven deeply between both of ye, Aileen,” said Betha softly.

“No, no, no.” She shook her head. “He will take me back to the abbey after he sees everyone to safety. I will celebrate with you but must return home.”

Betha shook her head slightly.

Aileen glanced at the almost full moon, wanting to just close her eyes, say a prayer, and find that this was just a wild dream. Her eyes misted slightly. “I left my father not understanding who he was. I ran in fear of him. I was angry, hurt, and in shock. Then, the next moment, I awake in a tunnel and find Stephen.”

She slid down the trunk of the tree looking up at Betha. “I have to make things right—he
needs
me now. There are so many questions I have only he can answer.” She pointed at Stephen. “I don’t have time for
us
.”

“Be verra careful the road ye force your heart onto, Aileen.” Betha’s tone firm, but gentle. “Ye were sent to him—
us
for a purpose, and if I understand the
fae
, they will reunite ye with your father when the time is right.” She stood and came over to her, stooping beside her. “All will be well,
Lady
Aileen, daughter of a great Fenian Warrior,
daughter
of the fae.”

Aileen slumped into her arms, sobbing softly.

“Let it go, lass,” soothed Betha. “May the light of our Lady help to guide ye.”

The tension from the last few days drained away while she found comfort in Betha’s arms, healing the wounds. Never before had she allowed another to heal her. Somehow the older woman had slipped through her barriers, helping to banish the anguish within Aileen.

Drawing back, she looked at Betha. “Are you a healer, too?”

She smiled. “Ye could say that.” Giving Aileen’s hand a squeeze, she stood, wrapping her plaid more tightly around her body. Taking her staff to lean on, she paused in thought. “Do not worry about tomorrow, for it has yet to present itself.”

“So true, Betha. However, I can still plan what
not
to do,” she murmured watching as the woman hobbled away.

Laughter peeled forth from the trees, and Aileen narrowed her eyes, questioning who or what was Betha MacDuff.

Chapter Nineteen

“When the Maypole entered her womb, all life sprung forth, and the cycle of rebirth began anew.”

The land beckoned—
come
play with me
, as intoxicating smells of pine mixed with wild grasses tickled her nose. As far as the eye could see, the ground was carpeted with buds of bluebells and foxgloves all waiting to burst forth. Wildflowers already in bloom stretched their dainty petals upward to the sun. She could feel the ground beneath her, yawning and awakening from its deep slumber.

Its touch trapped Aileen in bliss.

Freeing herself from her boots and socks, she giggled when her toes encountered the warm grass. She hadn’t felt so alive in such a long time.

Casting her gaze out over the hills lush with the purple hues of heather, her vision blurred from the sheer beauty of the land. Breathing in deeply, she allowed the magic of the day to infuse her body and soul.

“Beltaine eve,” she murmured.

Laughter spilled out from behind her, and twisting around she saw several young girls with baskets. One of them she recognized as Caitlin, and she gave them a wave.

“Lady Aileen!” shouted Caitlin. “We are gathering more flowers. Will ye help us?” she asked drawing in breath from running.

“Absolutely.”

The young girl grabbed her hand, and they wandered where clusters of wildflowers were growing. “Oh look! Faery flowers.”

“I believe those are called foxgloves.”

Kneeling down on the soft grass, Caitlin whispered a small blessing before she pulled the flowers from the ground. “These will be for ye,” she said beaming up at Aileen.

“For me? Why?”

“Ye are the faery lady, and these will be for your hair.”

A screech sounded to their right, and two small rabbits made a dash from their hiding place. The other girls erupted into more fits of laughter.

She looked back at Caitlin, and they both burst out laughing, too.

Aileen spotted some bluebells and daisies, so taking a basket she went to gather them. She had only gone a few feet when
he
stood staring at her. They had managed to avoid one another ever since their arrival in Grenlee, five days ago. There were so many people that one could truly become lost within the crowd.

Five extremely long days.

Her heart started racing just at the sight of him. He must have bathed in the nearby stream, for his hair was wet, and he wore only his plaid. The sun glinted off his muscular body, making her mouth go dry.

He gave her a small nod. “Aileen.”

Did he really speak to her? “Stephen.”

“Gathering flowers?”

“Bathing in the stream?”

He laughed softly.

She knew she shouldn’t ask, but she had to know. Aileen’s feet propelled her to him. She couldn’t stop herself. “Will you be at the bonfires tonight?”

A shadow of sadness passed over his features. “Nae. I will be on watch.”

She swallowed. “Oh, I see.” Biting her bottom lip, she then asked, “Perhaps at the dancing?”

His jaw clenched, and he shook his head. “I no longer honor the old ways.”

Aileen flinched. “What? How can you...a
Dragon Knight
, toss your beliefs aside?”

That’s when she truly saw it. His eyes went from pale pewter to shards of ice in an instant. “Great Goddess,” she uttered.

He stepped so close she could feel his breath across her face. “It was by magic this evil spread,” he hissed out. “At times, I’ve spat on the old
beliefs
.”

Sadness engulfed her, and she pondered why he felt so. When she spoke, her voice was gentle. “No, Stephen, the old and the new are beautiful paths. If we cannot accept them, we both might as well spill our blood, for it is our heritage.”

He just shook his head and looked away.

“In every belief, there is always an evil present, tainting and testing us.” She laid a hand on his arm, adding, “Just look what is happening with the new religion.” Releasing her hand, she stepped back. “This
cleansing
is part of your new religion. Yet, knowing how this new belief will grow in time, makes me believe in the good of it.”

He frowned at her, and Aileen continued, “Do I follow it? No, my heart is with the old, though the new preaches the very foundation of ours—
love
.”

“Your words may hold some truth, yet, it was the old ways that destroyed my family,” Stephen said hoarsely.

“What happened?”

“I failed to prevent the death of my sister.”

“How?” Her voice barely a whisper.

“It is a verra long story.”

She shrugged her shoulders slightly. “I have all day.”

He gave her a small smile, and ever so gently, tucked a strand of her hair back behind her ear. “This is not the day. Enjoy your feasting, Lady Aileen.”

She stood frozen from his touch, watching as he strode away. What was it that drew her to him? They were as different as night and day. And yet, they were bonded by blood which was as ancient as the land they stood upon.

“Maybe it’s for the best you aren’t at the bonfires, Stephen.” Taking a deep breath, she walked slowly back to the others.

****

Stephen’s mind continued to ponder the words Aileen had spoken to him. Here was another one, so bent on binding the two religions, as if they could. She spoke the same drivel as Osgar.

When he first glimpsed her barefoot and laughing, he couldn’t remember a sight so tempting. By the Gods, did she understand the view she presented? His immediate response was all too evident in his manhood, and he tried in vain to tame the beast. In the end, all he could do was gaze upon her.

Shaking the vision from his mind, he saw Donal speaking with some of the newly arrived druids. Hope soared when he realized Cathal might have joined them.

“Greetings, Sir Stephen,” said the elder of the two. “I am Gorlan, and this is my apprentice, Alan.”

Stephen gave a short nod.

“It is an honor, Sir Stephen,” stated Alan. “We had not expected to have a Dragon Knight at the gatherings.”

Stephen grunted. “I see ye have much to learn, since I am no longer a Dragon Knight.” He turned toward Donal. “Has Cathal arrived?”

Donal frowned at Stephen’s lack of respect. “Aye, he is here.” Before Stephen could depart, he halted him saying, “He is with Betha. Give them some time together—
alone
.”

“Done. I shall await him at the north entrance. Any word from Seamus?”

“Nae.”

Stephen departed the group, having no desire to converse with the druids. They and their kind still put him and his brothers on this vaulted pedestal, and it left him with a bitter taste in his mouth. Did they not understand they were cursed? Surely ones so high and mighty would scorn him.

When he spotted his horse, he gave a sharp whistle. The horse gave a soft snicker and followed Stephen away from the rest of the crowds.

They ambled for some time until he could no longer hear anyone.

Warm breezes flitted over him as he stood in the shadow of an oak, watching Grian drink from the stream. This is where he would wait and stay the night. The water would soothe his soul, and being away from the others would prevent him from being tempted. Especially by the fae with lavender eyes.

He rubbed at his eyes trying to convince himself this was truly for the best. Alone. Yet, why did he feel so unsettled?

“Argh!” He pushed away from the tree, scaring the birds from the nearby branches.

“Ye seem to be troubled, Sir Stephen.”

Stephen reeled back, sword unsheathed.

“I can assure ye I mean no harm.”

“Cathal?” asked Stephen.

The druid nodded, smiling broadly. “It is good to see ye, my son, and that ye remember me.”

“It was not recollection. Osgar told me.”

Stephen did something that he would never do to another druid, he embraced the elder. “It is good to see ye, too.”

“Come, let us sit by the water. If I recall, it was your desired place to be when ye were troubled.”

Stephen followed Cathal and together they sat upon boulders looking out at the water, with Grian happily contented to graze along the edge.

They sat in silence for some time, until Stephen asked, “Has Betha told ye all?”

Cathal raised his chin to look at Stephen. “If what ye mean, has she told me about the bishop, the cleansing,
and
my brother Lachlan, then my answer is yes.”

“Aye, and what about
me
?” he asked, sarcasm lacing his voice.

“It is not her place. ’Tis yours.”

Stephen blew out a long held breath. “I am on a road with no ending, no direction.” He glanced back at Cathal. “I am driven between two worlds. And now the fae have decided to send the daughter of a Fenian Warrior back to our time. For what?” he sneered.

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