“Moira kens I have a weakness for the bread and honey,” he said, giving her a wink.
“Well, that makes two of us Duncan. I love honey, too.”
“Do ye lass?” Ripping off another chunk, he dipped it into the bowl of honey. Brigid opened her mouth to receive the delectable piece along with the taste of his fingers. Again, she watched as he licked his fingers clean, and her cheeks flamed, feeling the blush extending down her neck.
“Here, let me fill your cup with some of Cormac’s elderberry wine. He calls himself an expert with this batch.” Duncan proceeded to fill her cup and then placed more food on her plate.
Brigid glanced around at the great hall rife with food, drink, music, and much merrymaking, that she almost forgot she was not a part of this time and place and pain stabbed at her heart.
“Bloody balls, Nell!” yelled Finn, as he removed the knife from the sleeve of his tunic. Laughter spilled out from the others, and Duncan placed a firm hand on the lad’s shoulder.
“Dinnae cry, ye baby. I was just after some apple pieces from the inside of the bird,” scoffed Nell, as she made to collect her knife from Finn.
“Whoa, Nell, I think you’d better let Finn help you,” said Brigid, shocked not only by Finn’s language, but also of the feisty young girl. “Come, Nell.” She leaned back away from Duncan and stretched out her hand. “Sit by me. Then we’ll ask Sir Duncan to pass us the food we want.” Brigid gave Duncan a wink.
“Humph!” Nell muttered, as she took Brigid’s outstretched hand and placed herself between Duncan and Brigid. Wiggling herself in, she bent across the table and stuck out her tongue at Finn, causing Finn to roll his eyes in disgust.
Duncan started heaping food on to her plate and Brigid asked, “How old are you, Nell?”
“Ooooh, thank ye, Sir Duncan,” cooed Nell as she speared the apples with her recovered knife. Munching on some apples, she swallowed and gave Brigid a wide smile, saying, “I am seven summers.”
“You are very brave, Nell, not to be scared of Finn. How old is he?” Brigid asked, taking another bite of the quail and apples.
Puffing her chest out, she exclaimed, “Och, Lady Brigid, I’m not afraid of anything.” Then giving another glare at Finn stated, “He is only nine winters.”
Glancing over the top of Nell’s head, Brigid mouthed to Duncan, “Are their parents here at the table?”
Duncan’s mouth went grim, and he shook his head in a negative response. “I will tell ye later.”
Brigid watched their bantering, as the two youngsters kept giving one another smirks and wondered what could have happened to their parents. Was it possible they were orphans or part of the household staff? She did not think they were the staff, since they wouldn’t be allowed to sit here. Yet, she did see a few of the help earlier eating and speaking with Cathal at another table.
The feasting continued with song and bardic stories bringing the meal to an end. However, merriment continued as many told their own stories in song, each one getting louder than the next. Nell had fallen asleep, curled up in Brigid’s lap. As she stroked Nell’s mass of golden curls, it reminded Brigid of her own ringlets. Glancing up, she saw Finn and Duncan playing a game of dice, and Cathal had moved to the corner of the hall in a battle of chess with Cormac.
Brigid smiled. All was well with her world, and for the moment, she would pretend she belonged in this place and time.
Chapter 33
“Harsh words are like a stone skipping across the surface of water. You’ll never know how far their reach will extend.”
One of the women had come and taken Nell from Brigid’s lap. When she stood, she swayed a bit. Grabbing a hold of the table, Brigid realized that too much ale mixed with elderberry wine was not a good combination.
Duncan grasped her elbow to steady her as his other arm came around her waist. “Bonny Brigid, too much merry making?” He chuckled low into her ear.
“
I think
...I just need to lie down.” Brigid looked up into his eyes.
“Och, Duncan, have ye given the lass too much to drink already?” Matilda stood on the other side of the table giving him a suspicious look. Walking around it, she placed her arm within Brigid’s. “The poor lass has had too much excitement. Here, let me take her to her room. Cathal is waiting for ye in Cormac’s chambers.”
A look of disappointment creased his brow, but he knew Matilda was right. Brigid was beyond exhausted, and Duncan felt guilty from plying her with drink and lusty looks. What he ought to do was gather her in his arms and tuck her into her bed. Instead, he took her hand brushing his lips gently across, saying, “Go with Matilda. She will help ye to your chambers.” Glancing back at Matilda, he gave her a mock salute over his heart, as he turned to leave.
“Cormac told me to tell you to fetch the
uisge beatha
, too.”
Grabbing the ewer as he passed by the end of the table, he waved to her over his head.
“Whisky?” asked Brigid, clutching at her head again.
“Tsk,tsk. Come lass, we shall make the slow steps together. This way you can tell me about yourself and how ye found the big bad wolf known as Duncan Mackay.”
Brigid giggled. “Big bad wolf? I believe under his tough skin is a lap dog.”
Matilda threw back her head and laughed fully. “Brigid, lass, how is it ye have known him only a few days, and yet it seems ye have grasped his soul?”
Both women smiled as they made their way slowly to Brigid’s chambers. The room was warm from the fire and the bed of furs beckoned, but she fought the sleep that was claiming her eyelids.
“Tell me, Matilda, how long you have known Duncan?” she asked, sighing the moment she sat in one of the large chairs by the fire.
“Hmmm, I’ve known the lad since his birth. A strong loud wailing did he give when entering this world.” Gathering a blanket around Brigid, Matilda went over to a small table where there was a pitcher and poured some liquid into it. Taking a packet from the pouch around her belt, she took a couple of pinches and placed them in the mug.
“Here lass, drink this. ’Tis some water mixed with herbs. It will make your head feel better.”
Brigid sniffed the contents. “Ummmm, peppermint?”
“Aye. It will help ye.”
“Thank you, Matilda, water is definitely what I need. The elderberry wine is potent, sorta sneaks up on you.” She sipped the cool water feeling refreshed within moments.
Taking a seat across from Brigid, Matilda asked, “Lass, ye have a strange mix of words, verra much like English. Where do ye hail from?”
Brigid snorted, “From a land far, far away.”
“Not of this time and space.” Matilda’s eyes bored into her.
Her eyes went wide at Matilda’s words. “How do you know?”
Chuckling Matilda took her hand, leaning forward. “I ken ye have the mark of the great dragon on your shoulder,
and
your coming was foretold. We did not understand the stories until now.”
Placing her hand on her shoulder, Brigid understood there were only two people that saw the mark; one was Duncan, the other Sienna. “Right.” Realization dawning. “So-o-o how
many
people know that I’m not from...this time?
“It is only myself. Sienna believes ye have been touched by the fae.” Matilda gave her hand a squeeze and sat back in her chair. “A great storm is coming, Brigid, and I fear for ye and Duncan.”
“But why, Matilda? We don’t even understand what is to happen.” Casting a glance over to another table, she saw the sword. Duncan had brought it up to her room, awaiting the time when she would turn it over to him. “I don’t have one clue what I’m supposed to do with it.” Pointing a finger in the direction of the sword, her words were one of frustration. “Do I hand it over to him now? Or am I to wait until he is healed? Actually, if you think about it, will he
ever
be healed? Tell me, Matilda, what
do
the stories say?”
Matilda hesitated briefly. “A love will come through time and space...”
Brigid finished the sentence. “To right a wrong within this place.”
“Then ye understand the words. Ye must follow your heart,” she stated, gently tapping her fist against her chest.
Brigid placed her fingers on either side of her temple to massage the ache. “My heart was lost the moment I stepped through the stones, and to follow it would do no good. When this is over, I will have to return.” With a sigh, Brigid tilted her head back and gazed upwards.
“Brigid, ye followed your heart for a purpose. In truth, the Duncan who set out on his quest is not the same man I saw this night.”
A blush crept up Brigid’s face, and she feared that Matilda knew that she had slept with him. Is that what she meant? Only one way to find out, she thought. “How so?”
A warm chuckle came forth before Matilda answered, “Lass, Duncan Mackay left without so much as a farewell to any. The man has not uttered more than a few words in over twelve moons—more like grunts and nods.” Brigid’s eyes went wide, but Matilda kept speaking. “There is a change in Duncan, and
all
have noticed.”
Then realization dawned, and she asked, “Matilda, what did happen that night, and
where
are
his brothers?”
“Och, Brigid, I dinnae ken what happened, only that his sword was the one that killed his sister, Margaret. Duncan has not spoken about the darkness of that night.” She pointed a finger adding, “I ken that is a question ye must ask him.”
Brigid’s smile was sad. “Oh, I’ve asked, and it was followed by thunder and wind. All I needed was rain and lightning.”
Matilda nodded. “Aye, his temper is the worst of all the brothers. Ye dinnae want to be around when he fully unleashes it.” Shuddering, she took her shawl and hugged it tighter around her arms. “Ye ken his power is the elements of sky, and it is powerful. He mastered it verra young and was a bit of a show-off. Angus would threaten to squelch the rain with his power of fire, or worse tell their father.” She gazed off, remembering the days as if they were yesterday.
“Hmmm, and Stephen’s gift is visions and water, Alastair is the earth, or you call it the great mother, but what about Margaret? Did she have any special gifts?” asked Brigid.
Nodding her head, smiling, Matilda replied, “Margaret was a special child. There had not been a female born in over a thousand years. Her birth so special it was foretold by the druids. Margaret’s gift was that of a healer linked directly to the fae. She also possessed the Book of the Beginning.” Tears glistened in Matilda’s eyes as she continued, “Her death was a great loss to the clan
and
the fae.” Spreading her hands across her knees, she smoothed her dress, then bowed her head in silence.
It was Brigid’s turn to give comfort. Reaching out, she placed her hand on one of Matilda’s. “I take it her gift was very unique, but what is the Book of the Beginning?”
Raising her head slowly, Matilda angled her head with a look of questioning on her face. “Ye do not ken the
Book of the
Beginning
?”
“No, I don’t. Why would I?”
She let out a soft sigh. “The Book of the Beginning, or as some call the
Awakening
, tells the story of the fae and how they came to us. Only two have been chosen to hold the book; one was Margaret, the other was from an ancient clan from Eirinn. Her name was Deidra Ui Neill.”
Gasping, Brigid drew her hand back from Matilda’s.
“Ye ken who she was?” A slow smile spread across Matilda’s face.
“Yes, I do,” whispered Brigid. Swallowing she continued, her voice gaining more strength. “The
Ui Neill
is the descendant of Niall of the Nine Hostages who lived around 400 AD and from where the O’Neill,
my family
is descended from.”
“Aye. Now ye realize why they call ye
Lady
Brigid. They believe ye were sent from the fae, and ye are their hope, not only for Sir Duncan, but for themselves, too. Ye will understand what to do when the door opens.”
Brigid grimaced not understanding her words. “Yet, Margaret is dead,” she said softly.
“Aye, she is. Was this foretold? Nae, but perhaps from this, another thread of life takes the place of hers.”
Matilda stood, rubbing the small of her back. Walking over to Brigid, she placed a kiss on her forehead. “Rest, lass.”
“Thank you, Matilda.”
Brigid watched as Matilda left her chambers. Standing, she went over and curled up on the stone seat by the window. Tucking her feet underneath her to keep warm, she gazed out at the night sky amazed at how many stars she could see. They lit the night with such brilliance, like diamonds of light glittering against black velvet. The moon was waxing and in a few weeks, it would be full. It illuminated the landscape below casting a dance of shadows.
She wanted—no needed to see Duncan. Visions of his honeyed fingers in her mouth sent chills of desire coursing through her. As much as her desire set her soul afire, she truly wanted to know what happened the night Margaret died. Remembering the words of Cathal, how he mentioned an evil was present that night, filled her mind with more questions.
Resting her chin on her knees, she had hoped to heal Duncan with her love. She prayed that was happening, but he turned away from her in the cave when he saw the mark on her shoulder. She lightly touched the mark with her left hand and then her head shot straight up.
“
Love
?” She gasped. Did she honestly love this man? He was a warrior, a Dragon Knight, scarred and tainted with the blood of his sister. She had
feelings
, but love? Was this part of his journey, and she, the instrument? Why would the Guardian show him love, only to rip them apart?
“Oh Goddess, please if you can hear me, I will need your help when I go back to my own time, since I believe I have lost my heart to Duncan Mackay. I ask you to heal it, because I surely know it will shatter to pieces when I leave him.” Brigid lowered her head back onto her knees, keeping a watch on the night stars.
****
Duncan watched the sleeping beauty curled peacefully by the window and marveled at how his body reacted every time he saw her. He did not intend to come to her chambers, but his feet carried them to her door of their own will. Just standing against the oak door, his body responded with a force to take and bury himself deep within her again.