Dragon's Moon (36 page)

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Authors: Lucy Monroe

BOOK: Dragon's Moon
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“You mean their children didn't all shift?”

“Nay. Their griffin fought the
conriocht
bravely, but it was finally decided they would return to the land of their origin.”

So the old stories were based in truth,
Ciara thought. “They went back across the land bridge that fell into the sea.”

“More like they left in boats, but the Paindeal live in the lands of the Norsemen and further south amidst the countries the Romans conquered or sought to do.”

“They must be higher in number now,” Eirik mused.

“Aye. They live much longer lives and with no wolves hunting them, their numbers have grown.”

Eirik's brow creased in a puzzled frown. “You know all this from dreams?”

“And visions. 'Tis a thing I will teach Mairi as your Anya-Gra will train your mate once you have recovered the
Faolchú Chridhe
.”

Ciara wasn't sure she wanted the knowledge Boisin spoke of, but her time from hiding from her gifts was past. She would serve their people as Eirik had predicted and just as he promised, she would not do it alone.

For the first time since realizing she had a mate, Ciara felt gratitude instead of fear stir in her heart.

“So, if it needs to be returned to the sacred caves on Sinclair lands, it stands to reason it is not there,” Lais observed.

Boisin inclined his head. “I have long believed that to be the case.”

“Knowing where it isn't doesn't improve our chances of finding it by much,” Ciara said worriedly.

The weight of her people's future now pressed down heavily on her shoulders.

Eirik squeezed her hand again, reminding her he had not let go, that the stubborn man never would let her go. “We will find the
Faolchú Chridhe
; we will save your race. Trust in our Chrechte strength. 'Tis not limited to the increased physical prowess from our animal natures.”

She took a deep breath and nodded, trusting in her mate, if nothing else.

“Perhaps we should begin our search in caves on the lands of the clan with the strongest contingent remaining of the Fearghall.” Lais caressed Mairi's hair as if he didn't realize he was doing it. “It stands to reason that would be the clan in most direct descent from the high
kelle
and her wicked son.”

“'Tis not such a good measure as you might think,” Boisin said. “When the Fearghall society was formed, so too were the Cahir.”

“The Cahir?” Eirik asked.

“Aye, warriors dedicated to rooting out the Fearghall among the packs and either convincing them the error of their ways or destroying them.”

“You are Cahir?” Mairi asked, sounding like she knew the answer.

“I was once. I passed that mantle to my son and he has trained his sons to follow.”

“But there are no Fearghall in the Balmoral clan,” Ciara said with confusion.

“Why do you think that is, lass?” Boisin shook his head. “The Balmoral clan has Cahir, but some packs did not train the next generation of Cahir and take their vow of protection in belief the cancer no longer existed among them, but without the Cahir, 'twould always return.”

“Like in my father's clan,” Mairi said, looking up at the eagle with a sad frown.

“Aye, the MacLeod has a like spirit to Fearghall,” Boisin said. “Though he does not share such a direct bloodline as our Faol princess.”

“I am not a princess,” Ciara could not help muttering.


Kelle
then.”

“I am not
kelle
.”

“I will teach you to be a warrior,” Eirik promised. “And Anya-Gra will teach you to care for the spiritual welfare of our people. The stone has chosen you as high
kelle
. You have too much courage and honor not to heed the calling.”

He was correct that she would not deny her call, but it wasn't because she was courageous. It was because she had no choice.


Our
people?” she asked.

“The Chrechte.”

“Both Faol and Éan?” she pressed, though she knew the answer.

“Aye.”

Boisin nodded. “The races must join to win against the Black Death coming.”

L
ais got more water for the horses, his thoughts and heart in conflict. He owed his allegiance to Eirik and could not abandon his prince to pursuit of the quest without him, but the thought of leaving Mairi here on Balmoral Island made his eagle claw to get out.

“Boisin has agreed to lead us to the caves the Balmoral use for their sacred Chrechte rites,” Eirik said from behind Lais. “Though he is fairly certain the
Faolchú Chridhe
is not there, he wants to show Ciara how to draw on the power of the stone and seek it out.”

Lais turned and met his friend and prince's gaze. “Do you think he has truly foreseen the future and this Black Death he mentioned?”

“His gift is true. You have only to look at the goblet he served your wine in to see that.”

The images on the goblet had burned inside Lais with hope ever since his first glimpse of them. “Aye.”

“The Black Death is coming.”

“But not for many years.”

“That is what he said.”

“So, why find the stone now?”

Eirik frowned and looked off to the distance. “Because the stone needs Ciara to touch and heal the Faol and she needs the stone to prolong her life.”

“For centuries…” Lais could barely believe such a thing possible.

“That is what the old man said.”

“Do you think it is true?”

“I do. Since transforming into my dragon for the first time, I have felt invulnerable.”

“Because none could best you in battle.”

“I do not get sick. Cuts, wounds…they heal far too quickly for even a Chrechte.”

“You are going to outlive me.”

“Aye.” Eirik's grief at the thought lived in his eyes. “My grandmother always warned me my calling would not be an easy one. I thought the hardest thing had already been faced.”

“Giving up your right to rule as king.”

“Aye.”

But worse was yet to come, not that it needed saying. Lais was just as certain that Eirik would learn to take the centuries in stride so long as his mate was by his side.

“I want a mate,” Lais blurted out.

Eirik raised a single brow. “I thought you'd already chosen one.”

“She deserves better.”

“Than my most trusted and closest friend?” Eirik asked with disbelief. “There is no better man.”

Lais felt an unmanly prick at his eyes and blinked the sensation away. “You know that is not true.”

“Do not be a fool, Lais.”

“I am not.”

“No.” Eirik slapped his shoulder. “You were deceived
once, but you were not a fool then and you are not one now. Do not act the part.”

“I betrayed my alpha and the princess of our people.”

“They forgave you. The
Clach Gealach Gra
healed you.”

“What if it didn't? What if I cannot give Mairi bairns?”

“What if you can?”

“You make it sound simple.”

“'Tis because it is. Would you dismiss the gift to heal that you have been given because you are unworthy of it?”

“Of course not.” He could not believe Eirik had even asked such a stupid thing. Their people needed Lais's abilities. “I cannot deny the
Clach Gealach Gra
my service in healing others.”

“Then how do you think you have the right to deny this gift?” Eirik asked in a tone that implied he was not the only one capable of voicing stupidity.

“You didn't say this to Gart when he chose his dreams of children over his mate.”

“I am not Gart's alpha.”

“If it comes to that, you are not actually mine, either.” Though they both knew that prince triumphed over alpha as a distinction of leadership, no matter what Eirik had sacrificed to bring his people to the clans and relative safety.

“I am your friend,” Eirik said with certainty. “I would be remiss if I did not point out when you are being an idiot.”

“Boisin said Mairi has to stay here, with him, to train in her calling as a seer.”

“It is no easy thing to leave your mate behind, even if it is for a short time, but for an indefinite period, it is damn near impossible.”

“Though sometimes it is necessary.”

“I trust you as I do no other, but I am dragon. You can stay here, with your mate, and know naught will befall a Chrechte of my power.”

“Even a dragon needs a friend at his back. I will come with you.” There could be no question of it. Their people, Éan and Faol alike, relied on the success of this quest.

“Thank you.” Eirik clasped his arm, forearm to forearm, in the way of warriors. “You will return to her.”

Feeling more at peace than he had since his first whiff of his mate's scent, Lais stepped back. “I will. What do you think the Balmoral would say to requesting his priest perform another wedding this day?”

“He's a man of action. He will understand the need.”

L
ais found Mairi with Ciara, listening to more of Boisin's stories, both women enraptured by the old man's gift.

Smiling, Lais laid his hand on Mairi's shoulder so as not to startle her.

She looked up, her pretty blue eyes filled with question.

“Walk with me a minute?” he asked.

She nodded.

Cackling, Boisin stopped his story. “Is that how you young men do it? Walk with me a minute, he says.” Boisin slapped his knee. “My own dear mate led me a merry chase. I'd have not asked her to walk with me for fear she would lay a trap ahead of time.”

Lais felt his face heat, but Mairi was standing and she shook her head in amusement at the elder. “Thank you for the stories, Boisin.”

“Aye, lass, you're welcome. You'll learn to tell them as well as my own daughter has done and her son after her.”

Mairi nodded, looking pleased and Lais's worry at leaving her behind lessened.

He led her out of the cottage and around to the back. “There is a small loch a bit of a walk from here.”

His eagle had smelled the water and Lais had gone looking when he'd realized the old man's barrel was half empty. He'd refilled it for Boisin, the least he could do after watering four large horses from the man's reserves.

“You are leaving with the others,” Mairi said, resignation in her tone.

“I am coming back.”

She looked up at him, but he kept his attention on the path ahead of them. He didn't want to have this conversation
until they were well away from the cottage and keen Chrechte ears.

They reached the water and he guided her to a seat in the shade cast by a large oak tree near the bank.

“You are coming back? Why?” she asked, her blue eyes troubled.

“To collect my wife.”

Those pretty blue eyes widened now, shock shimmering in their depths.
“Your wife?”

He smiled. “Aye.” He dropped to his knee beside her and took her small hand in his. “Mairi, sweet one, you are my mate.”

“That is not what you claimed in the boat.” She gave him a very disgruntled frown. “And you ignored me, last night in the guards' hut.”

“I did not know when Gart would return; I could not risk him finding us in a compromising circumstance.” As it was, the guard had not returned at all, but Artair had come to the hut when his watch was over.

“Now you want to be my mate? Because Boisin threatened you with his randy grandson?”

“Because Eirik told me I was being an idiot and I agreed. You are a gift from God and to deny you is to deny the preciousness of that gift. That I cannot do.”

“You said
wife
.”

“I did.”

“You want to marry me?” she asked on a squeak.

“With everything in me, I do.”

“But…”

“Say you will accept me, my eagle…my past.” Perhaps it was not fair to ask it, but 'twould not be fair to consign them both to a lonely future, either.

Mairi was wrong on one count. Lais was not worried about Boisin's grandson, not one bit. Because Mairi was his mate and he was hers. There would be no other, for either of them.

“And will you accept me…even if I never gain a wolf?”

That one was easy. “'Tis why I desire the wedding happen now.”

“I don't understand.” But she was looking at him with such hope.

He would not disappoint her. “If you gain a wolf as you hope to and the wedding came after, you would always wonder if I only claimed you because you shared your soul with the wolf.”

“You are right.” Her eyes filled with tears that spilled over and she swiped at them. “I
would
have wondered.”

“Aye.”

“But are you sure? We have known each other such a short time.”

“My eagle knew you the moment Eirik laid you on the grass behind the Sinclair keep. I knew I was lost the first moment your eyes opened and caught my own.”

“But do you love me?” she asked as if afraid of the answer. “Can you love me?”

“Do you love me?”

“Yes.”

“Is love the desire to be with you and no other? To protect you from all harm? The willingness to both kill and die for you? The need to touch whenever we are near? The desire to keep your heart as well as your body for as long as we both draw breath? If this is love, then I love you.”

“I will marry you.” Then she burst into tears.

He didn't mind. The joy coming off of her was a heady fragrance to Lais's eagle's senses.

He decided that vow needed sealing with a kiss. And so he did.

I
n the end, Boisin sent word to his laird via one of his many grandchildren, and the priest met them in the clearing outside the Balmoral pack's sacred caves. He spoke his blessing over Lais and Mairi before being accompanied by two warriors back to the castle.

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