Love's Battle (True Blue Trilogy) (2 page)

“I love him and he loves me!” Riona declared, much as young girls her age were wont to do when a young man catches their fancy.

Grandmother expected no less. Oh the imprudence of young love. They think they have all the answers. Hadn’t she once, when she was a young girl, said those very same words. Heard them uttered back at her by Riona’s mother.

Struggling to her feet Grandmother reached out to take the girls’ hands, her body lyrical in its’ many creaks and moans. The news she had to impart was not easy to say, and would not be easy for Riona to hear. It would put her granddaughter’s honor on the line and test the purity of her heart.

“That maybe lass, but he is promised to another. Child, I am sorry to tell you, they marry in a week’s time.”

Arthritis riddled hands squeezed tight to the strong as they tried to pull away.

“No. That’s not true. He would have told me. I don’t believe you!”

“Believe what you will, the matter was decided long ago. The contract is binding and canna be broken.”

Frantic at the thought of her love being stolen from her, Riona pulled her hands free, blurting out the first solution that came to mind. “He won’t do it. We’ll run away.” She declared.

As fast and as sharp as a lightning strike and just as unforgiving Grandmother’s hand struck the young, beautiful face; the sting harsh enough to bring tears to Riona’s eyes. Tears that would not fall. Held in check by her will the only outward sign of her distaste at the assault was her hands curled into fists at her side.

“You will hold your tongue!” Grandmother challenged, her once wizened voice turned to steel. “Only a coward runs from his duties and our Laird’s son is no coward. He will do his duty, marry this woman and beget his heirs. There canna be another way.” The unkind tones of reprimand turned thoughtful with sympathy as she watched the girls’ face. It did not crumple or fall with the shock and sadness of this revelation. Instead, it was like a canvas, wiped clean in thought. The only thing that gave her away, those strange lavender eyes. Just behind them you could see Riona’s skilled mind at work. Strategizing, planning, trying to make sense of the news.

“Just because he is to marry, I doubt his father would object overly to Cinaed taking you to mistress if he so desired it.” Grandmother reasoned, searching for something that would give Riona comfort.

“Mistress!” The word spat from her young mouth full of venom. The thought was repulsive, hurting more than any slap. “A fancy word for whore.” Riona shook her head in denial. “I dinna thinks so. You ask too much of me.”

The crone shrugged, hands on her hips. “Too much of you, or too much of your pride? It has always been misplaced for one as lowly as you, the bastard daughter of a slave. Being the mistress of our future Laird is naught but a small price to pay for happiness.” Grandmother pointed out, “In turn you still have each other and Cinaed fulfills his duty. A fair compromise to my way of thinking.” A compromise that had worked well enough for Grandmother’s own self.

Turning away to stare into the flames that danced in the hearth, Riona shook her head, her bright tresses glowing gold in the shadows. Compromise. It was her mother and grandmother’s way and not one Riona wanted for herself. Full of twists and turns, Riona had no intention of following in their footsteps. To Riona’s way of thinking, it was a path that held only pain.

“I dinna see it as such. To live every day seeing them together, knowing that I should be his rightful wife, his ceile. ‘Twould be a living Hell.” A Hell that would devour her as quickly as the flames that devoured the peat that provided their warmth. “For his wife to know another shares her husbands bed and commands his affections would be tantamount to blasphemy. I willna sink low enough to wish that upon her. She is but an innocent pawn in this. As innocent as he is. As innocent as I am. The three of us are not but puppets, pulled by the invisible strings of those who decide for us.”

Riona turned to Grandmother, her eyes pleading. “Dinna you see that to have the both of us in his life would eat away at him like an unhealing sore. Festering slowly the animosity would fill his body with poisoning until it killed him!” Just like it had her mother.

There was deep sadness in the crone’s eyes as she looked upon the woman-child before her. If her lineage were different, if it were pure, their Laird would gladly take Riona as wife to his son. She was full of spirit and deep of strength; an ideal mate for a man many depend on.

Recognizing the truth in the child’s words and the bleak acceptance that came into her eyes Grandmother sat heavily on her stool; her body weary, her bones feeling their age. “I wish things could be different. I am truly sorry Riona, the matter canna be undone.”

Woodenly the lass nodded her acceptance. To fight the inevitable would be futile. There were no options left for her. No options, save one.

Turning, Riona removed her cloak from its peg pausing as emotion swamped over her. She spoke quickly lest her fragile hold on her tears break and embarrass her further. “We dinna have much time left. I wish to spend every moment I can with him. Will you deny me that?”

Oh how Riona hated feeling the catch in her throat, hated hearing the weakness in her voice. Somehow it made it all too real.

“Will you be able to let him go when the time comes?” Grandmother asked softly.

“I have been given no other choice.” Riona answered simply.

Hearing her granddaughter’s voice once strong, catch on a sob, the crone’s own heart began to break. She could practically see the spirit leaving the child’s body. The fight, gone from her, left naught but a cold lump in her chest. It wasn’t an appealing sight to see a warrior brought so low in defeat.

“Go child with my blessing. Pack as much love into your last days together as you can. I’ll be here when you return.”

With that the golden haired girl fled into the night, the cold wind her escort.

Exhausted Grandmother settled back in the chair at the table, knowing without a doubt that she would keep her promise. She would be there to help Riona pick up the pieces of her shattered life when she returned. Together they would face any consequences that may come to light. Much as she had with her own daughter eighteen years ago.

One Week Later

The sun that had risen bright and pure on the morning of the spring solstice had long been extinguished

The one day of the year when day and night were equal in their power, it is said to have magical properties. As such it was during the last hour of that very same day that the man who was destined to marry another learned what true love really was.

Facing the woman who held his heart in the palm of her hand, Cinaed stood with her in the heart of a ring of fire. Bathed in glowing flames, the eyes of the dark haired warrior reflected all the wonder he felt for the young maid; his heart fair to bursting with the enormity of it all. The tears Cinaed saw in Riona’s shimmering eyes rivaled that of the purest diamond; their dazzling glint mirroring the firelight cleaved his already broken heart in two.

It was the heart of the man who was destined to be Scotland’s first king.

In a nearby tree, a white crow sat and waited. Overhead the stars in the night sky looked down on the mountain top precipice, careless observers to the couple’s plight.

“Cinaed,” The fair haired Riona began, the anguish of what she must do filling her body with untold pain.

Her love for him was such that she willingly sacrificed the future of what they could never be in favor of the generations that looked to him for their very existence. “You are destined for a great many things in this life. I love you with all that I am, but your destiny does not lie with me by your side. You are to be king Cinaed, our righ! You need a proper wife, one who can be queen at your side.”

“Aye beautiful Riona, say the words and ya shall be my queen.”

“Nay,” She corrected gently, a smile ghosting around her rose colored lips. “No matter how hard I wish it, I canna be your queen.”

The grass sighed softly under her bare feet as she moved to be closer to him. Lovingly Riona cupped her hands around the face of the one she sees even when her eyes are closed in slumber. She wanted to commit to memory everything she cherished most about the handsome young warrior. Starting with the smooth feel of his skin, the way it felt under her hand, like the softest of silks.

She wanted to remember forever the way the flames from the small camp fire bathed his face in both light and shadow turning his raven hair blue in its glow. The way his green eyes vivid with their intensity looked at her, as if she was the most wonderful thing he’d ever seen.

And as she does, the young girl denies her heart what it yearns for most. Choosing to hold in her heart the memories of their last night together instead of the man they revolved around. There could be no other way. It was asking too much of her soul to live the rest of her life as his mistress while another warmed his bed as wife.

Riona was selfish enough to want all of Cinaed or nothing at all and practical enough to know the number of lives that would be snuffed out the by the blade of the warriors sword should she come between the alliance his marriage would bring.

In the coming years her life would go on without him, Riona wanted the comfort remembering would offer. Like the shape of his nose- broken by his cousin when they were children. The softness of his lips- the equal of any rose petal. The puckered texture of the scar that ran across his left shoulder- his first scar received in battle. She wanted to remember the long line of healing flesh down his right leg- a training mishap- it was what had brought them together. And most importantly, Riona wanted to feel of his calloused work roughened hands as they touched her body when she finally gave him her innocence.

“They call you ‘The Conqueror, An Ferbasach’. Oh love, I dinna have what you or our country needs most, but she does.”

They both knew she was speaking of the one his father intended for him to take as bride on the morrow. A bride descended from the first of the royals who rule this world in which they live. A world Riona, a bastard maiden, who carried the tainted blood of slaves and serfs knew nothing about and had no place in. A woman who unlike herself carried blood lines as pure and unsullied as his.

Riona was not blind to the consequences of the selfish action she was talking, she needed to have a small part of him with her when he was gone. In fact, she prayed for it every second. Wished for it on every night star she could see. It wouldn’t completely banish the pain that would follow in the wake of their separation, but it would make it bearable.

“She will make you a fine queen and give you the sons that you deserve. My love for you Cinaed is great enough that I am willing to give you what you need most so that you can be what we in Scotland need.” Riona declared fiercely. “All I ask is for this night, the night before your vows and no other. Stay and love me Cinaed.”

Even as his heart refused to heed her plea, his mind knew she was right. He didn’t want to give her up and so he would give in; unable to refuse any request that she might ask of him.

“How can I say nay? Riona you make me weak as a babe and still I feel I am more than king in your arms. Please change your mind.” Cinaed begged for the last time, knowing that it was feeble to do so in the first place. “Please say you’ll be my queen. Be my wife.”

Riona’s heart squeezed at his words, a clinching pain that nearly drove her to her knees. Oh how she longed to be his forever, joined as husband and wife, living the rest of their lives together, ignoring all but her own self-interests to make it happen. But she couldn’t. It wasn’t what their county or its people needed. Cinaed knew that just as well as she did, but when love is great the mind tends to turns a blind eye to the needs of other so that the heart might find peace.

Holding tight to her control, refusing to let her tears fall, Riona denied Cinaed for the final time.

“I canna. You know my place is not with you as queen. But I can give you a promise, one that will live on forever. Our spirits will one day find the love that we deny through the love that we make tonight.”

“Oh cushla, beat of my heart, I willna deny you. No other shall compare with you.”

The strength Cinaed saw deep inside the heart of his love staggered him and in his own heart he knew he was unworthy. And that for as long as he lived there would never be another royal in possession of as much dignity and goodness as the waif like girl standing before him.

Stepping closer, so that the tips of their toes touched, Riona intertwined their hands. Staring deeply into the eyes of the man she was relinquishing in favor of others, she promised him they would one day have the life they dreamed of. The humble flames surrounding them growing in might and potency with each word she pledged to him.

“This night together will be our only, yet in this gift I shall never be lonely.

To live a life and life again, a living soul that has not end.

A living promise of you and me, a life of three I’ll bare for thee.

With their birth the gift of sight, bathed in blue; loves true light.

From night to night and day to day, with their help true love will stay.

Seen in light, a halo of blue, this my promise I give to you.

Whenever our hearts cease to beat, our spirits true love then will meet.

Held in the heart of the oldest of three, she will bear the love of you and me.

Life to life and heart to heart, our true love no, will never part.

Our love will live again, this you will see, as I will so mote it be.”

Bounding around them at the powerful words, the fire snapped and cracked, wrapping them in a curtain of heat; dwindling in size, only to leap tall again as their lips met in a kiss that put an inferno to shame.

“Are you sorceress now lass?” Cinaed whispered holding Riona close in his arms, his voice thick with emotion. Moved by her charmed words in a way that as a warrior and king he could never show.

“Love is its own magic. A most powerful weapon when it comes from the heart and is pure and true like ours.” Riona promised him, unwilling to believe anything different.