Chapter 14 #3
And Kylin’s people were prepared for the coming attack because Eamon had ordered that the injured be cared for—his own injured and that of the enemy.
“Nay, I cannot! I will be killed, let me die now!”
“Nay, nay, my good man. We can protect you. Today, you have seen our strength, seen that we know, and that we will fight, and know how the enemy has been slipping in. You’re Irish, you have been terrified or ordered by someone to kill your own.
Who? Jarl Swen Jorgensen wants to seize the country and he is implementing all manner of attacks—but we will protect you.
The ard-rí himself will protect you,” Kylin promised.
The man on the ground began to cry.
“We let him live?” Magnus murmured softly behind him.
“Aye, Magnus,” Eion told him. “Aye. We fight battles, we do not murder the injured. I learned that from Rí Eamon. The enemy can become a great asset.”
Deidre knelt by the injured man’s other side, taking his hand. “I am the daughter of Eamon O’Connor. I can swear to you by all that is holy that we will tend to you, care for you. But we need your help.”
She lifted the rim of her tunic and began to rip off a long strip, using it to bind the man’s wound, a gash that went across his midsection, right below the ribs.
He winced as she helped him, but when she had done so, he opened his eyes and looked at her. “Other men tried to reach your father! Don’t you understand? They would not let us. Those . . . those four there. They follow Jarl Swen Jorgensen. And they kill those who do not obey their orders.”
“But they are the ones who lie dead,” Deidre said softly. “If you know—”
“I don’t, I don’t,” he said miserably. “I know the men who set upon us. Those who followed them would live. Those who did not would die.”
His eyes closed. For a moment, Kylin thought that he had died. But he was still breathing; he still had a pulse.
“Let’s get him to the clearing,” Eion suggested. “If we can heal him . . .”
“He may know more than he thinks he knows,” Deidre finished.
“Magnus, you and I must take him. Eion, you’re wearing a cloak. We can make a litter of it so we can get him back.”
“Of course. And by the heavens above, I—we—are in your debt! I do not doubt my skill. I swear, it is solid, and, Kylin, you know Magnus’s strength. And yet when there were so many, I was ready to fight to the death, but I feared that the death might be my own!”
“How did you just appear?” Magnus asked as Eion removed his cape so they could create a makeshift carrier of it.
“There were others. Five others,” Kylin began.
“Are there more?” Magnus asked, looking around.
“I think they’d have been out. I know that these men saw you—they were headed in a crevice that led to caves and a passageway—but I’m not sure they knew that their friends hidden out here were dead already.
I don’t believe there are more men here.
Too many men would have caused them to be noted at some point by the wrong person. ”
“But how did you come out of the earth—” Magnus began.
“That’s just it, we came out of the earth,” Deidre told him, standing aside as the injured man was gently lifted onto the cape.
“There are deep caves, passageways, beneath the caves where they were hiding out. They might have known about them, but why use them when you can be on the solid ground and keep watch just as easily?”
“We must get him back and do our best to tend to his wounds,” Kylin said.
But before he could do his part in carrying the heavy wounded man, he retrieved his spear from the body of the man intent on taking down Eion and Magnus.
They started walking. There was no longer a reason to hide and, despite the fact that it was a much longer walk, they had to go around the thick part of the forest from which they had arrived.
They did their best to hurry, breathing hard and moving in silence, until finally returning to the clearing and calling out to let Cillian and the men there know that it was them arriving in the moonlight.
Cillian threw his head back, muttering a prayer, as they came into the clearing.
Darragh let out a neigh of welcome and relief.
And then, of course, they had to explain the events of the night to Cillian.
But while Kylin and Eion did so, Kylin noted that Deidre was busy untying the cauldron from its position upon Darragh’s saddle.
He watched her curiously, not interested in stopping her or questioning what she was doing. He had a feeling that he knew.
The cauldron was magical. She intended to gather healing herbs and create a potion for a poultice in the cauldron.
While he gave Cillian his attention, he also continued to observe Deidre.
She spoke to one of Cillian’s men and he hurried away, moving through the trees. She headed for the edge of the clearing herself, seeking something within the thick brush.
“We must heal him!” Cillian said. “He may not know with whom Jarl Swen Jorgensen is truly planning this event, but if we know where he came from—”
“He and others were trying to reach Eamon,” Kylin told him.
“But those who did not obey the North commander were killed. They were probably promised great rewards for their service as well, but I do believe in my soul that this man was truthful, too. He fought with the enemy because he was of their group, but he didn’t have a desire to kill—he did what he was ordered to do to save his own life. ”
“And maybe more. Perhaps the wives and children of men are being threatened as well,” Cillian said.
“My God!” Eion cried out. “Aye. A man will often do anything for a wife, for a child.”
“We will get him to my home as it is the closest. Travel by daybreak—we’ll pray that he lives so long,” Cillian said.
“He will,” Kylin told him.
Cillian’s man Alaric had come back from the trees with their food bowls filled with water. Deidre took them and poured them into the cauldron. She’d been moving about in the forest, seeking medicinal plants.
For the cauldron. Of course.
“We can build a fire now, can’t we?” she asked. “We’ve rooted out the evil in the hills.”
“I believe that we have,” Kylin said. “I can’t be completely sure.”
“You’d have been attacked by others if there were more,” Cillian said thoughtfully. “This man could prove to be invaluable. Build a fire.”
They did so. Kylin hunkered down by Deidre, ready to fetch, retrieve, stir—do anything that she asked.
The others stood around, watching in silence.
At last, she was satisfied: her potion was done. Cillian assured her that he had extra cloth with him and produced a linen tunic to be ripped to shreds as a bandage. She then applied the contents of the cauldron to the man’s deep wound and wrapped it carefully with the bandages created.
She tested his breathing and his pulse, then she looked up at them all. “He lives,” she said softly.
“I’ve seen such wounds,” Eion told them. “If he makes it until morning . . .”
“He will live,” Alaric said, nodding. “I, too, have seen such wounds. Then again,” he added with a sigh, “infection can set in—”
“But it will not,” Deidre told them. She smiled. “Trust me.”
“Ah, Deidre, lass, we all knew that you were quite the warrior, but I did not know that you were skilled in the healing arts as well.”
“I’m not sure at all that I’m skilled. But I have spent time with one of our lasses, Colleen, who is remarkably skilled at keeping our people alive.”
They suddenly heard something issue from the man’s lips. A sigh? A cry? Kylin wasn’t sure at first.
“You will heal,” Deidre whispered, leaning down to talk to him.
His eyes fluttered. He looked pained, but then he murmured, “Thank you! I have a child. A lass. A wee lass, just five. If others come, they must think that I’m dead, of course. But I am grateful to live, to perhaps see her again.”
His eyes fluttered again. They were losing him. He wasn’t dying, but he was falling asleep.
There was one thing, though, that they needed to know then.
Deidre glanced at Kylin, and perhaps it was logical, or they did share their thoughts.
“Please, please hear me! We need to know. We counted ten of you. Are there more men hiding in the hills, ready to attack the unwary.”
“Nay . . . a small party, enough to . . . enough to attack and kill, few enough to hide. That’s what the leader said. And . . .” His voice drifted.
Deidre looked up at Kylin, and then the others.
“He is sleeping now, a restful sleep, I hope and I believe. But one of us should keep watch.”
“Cillian, sire,” Alaric said, “we who guard you can guard him. Those who fought the battle in both stealth and tremendous danger deserve their rest.”
“Alaric, aye, my thanks, young warrior. Kylin, Deidre, Eion, Magnus—find your blankets, rest close to the fire. One of us will be awake, nay, two at a time, and we will guard our wounded man and ourselves through the last of the darkness.”
“Cillian, sire, you needn’t—” Alaric began.
“I will tend the fire and watch here first. You and the men must rearrange our travel goods, for this man cannot walk. We’ll need to have him on the pack horse,” Cillian told them.
“As you say, sire,” Alaric agreed, looking at the other man and shrugging. “We’ll get to it.”
“I’d be near him through the night,” Deidre told Kylin.
“I’ll lay our blankets here,” he said, smiling. “And we’ll watch him, and enjoy the warmth of the fire against the chill and the dampness of the night hours that remain.”
She nodded, smiling back.
He arranged their blankets close together by the fire. Eion and Magnus were setting up across from them.
Cillian was sitting up, stirring the embers in the fire with a long stick.
“I had a very restful day,” he told them, grinning.
They lay close enough that Kylin dared speak.
“Fairies!” he said softly.
“No banshees with fiery eyes,” she said. “But, aye, fairies! It is said, in legend, that the Tuatha Dé Danann took to the earth with the fairy folk, so I imagine . . .”
“We are blessed and lucky,” he told her.
“Shimmer,” she said quietly.
“What?”
“The woman who comes to me. Or the angel or fairy or . . . magical being. She came to me and dispelled the darkness. And she told me that I could call her ‘Shimmer.’”
He smiled. Shimmer.
“Fitting,” he said softly.
“You believe me?” she asked.
“Of course! I saw the fairies.”
“We both saw them? Sometimes I wonder . . .”
“If we see these things only in our minds?” he asked.
She nodded.
“Of course, I wonder about that, too. Yet, how can our minds be so completely aligned if there isn’t a bit of magic somewhere?”
She smiled and shivered suddenly. “The fire helps so much, of course,” she whispered.
He moved closer to her. After all, they were supposedly betrothed.
“Let me give you more warmth,” he murmured.
She nodded, curling up against him.
And it was almost a dream, not as intimate, not as vivid, but . . . sweeter, perhaps.
Because it was real.