Eochaidh - Legend of the Horsemen (Book One) (16 page)

Tristan walked slowly back to the clearing. What did
it matter? He asked himself. They no longer had a chance to break the
spell.
 
They no longer had a chance at
stopping Morganna. Their choices were lives as horses, watching the world pass
them by, or quick deaths as men. At this point, he preferred to die as a man.

As he entered the clearing, the other horses came out
from the woods, all changing to men as they met him. It had been a long time
since they had been like this, human form, together like the brothers fate had
caused them to be.

“He is dead.”

Those three small words ended their lives too.
 
Ended their hope.

“And the girl?” Duncan asked.

Tristan lifted his hand and lightly touched the
bruised ring around his eye. “After she planted me a facer, she took off
running back toward the estate,” he said. “I followed her to make sure she got
safely back to her man servant.”

Rufus chuckled. “Socked you in the eye, did she?” he
laughed. “Well, good for her. You deserved it.
 
We all deserved it.”

Nodding, Tristan sighed. “That we did,” he said. “We
should have warned her, helped her family to escape. We knew the odds of anyone
winning against Morganna.
 
We’ve seen
what she’s been capable of over the years.”

“But the girl is still alive?” Duncan asked again.

“Aye, she’s still alive,” Garrett snapped. “Not that
it does any of us any good.”

“But she’s a Herdin, isn’t she?” Duncan asked.

“Has this development caused you to take leave of your
senses?” Garrett replied. “She is alive, she is a Herdin and she is a
woman.
 
She is of no use to us.”

Tristan turned from his companions and began to walk
away, when he thought better of it and faced them again. “No use to us?” he
demanded. “No use to us, and therefore not worthy of our sympathy or
compassion. No use to us, and so we abandon her to a life as an orphan. No use
to us, so we do not protect her or warn her. It was her father, after all, who
could have been our savior.
 
Therefore
the girl is nothing.
 
Therefore she is
expendable.”

“I did not mean it that way,” Garrett said.

“What have we become?” Tristan asked. “We were noble
Knights of the Round Table, sworn to act in a manner within the laws of
chivalry. Sworn to defend the helpless and the meek.”

“I’d say by the look of your eye, the lass is neither
helpless or meek,” Rufus said. “But I understand what you’re saying. If nothing
else, we owe her our allegiance. The only reason her father is dead is because
we exist.”

“Not just her father, her entire family,” Tristan
said. “Morganna killed everyone and believes she killed the girl.”

“Why would she do that?” Andrew asked. “The father was
the only threat.”

“It would take a lot of power to cast a spell so
strong it would destroy a family,” Garrett said. “And since her power source is
still in the past, she put herself at great risk.”

Tristan shook his head. “You don’t understand,” he
said. “She didn’t just kill a family, she conjured a storm in the sky with
powerful lightning bolts so filled with energy that when they hit the Herdin
estate it exploded. The family, the servants, everyone was killed in an
instant.”

“Her power will be depleted for some time,” Rufus
said. “Why would she do that?”

“Because of the girl,” Duncan said.

“Sir Duncan,” Tristan shouted, exasperated. “Lady
Meaghan is still alive; we have all acknowledged that fact. Why do you insist
on repeating it?”

“
Nobile
viri
pura
cordis
incantatores
conteram
,” Duncan repeated.

“Aye, even young Andrew knows that much Latin,” Garrett
said. “A man, pure of heart, will break the spell.”

“You think you know that much Latin,” Duncan argued. “But
did you know the word ‘
viri
’ can be translated as
either the word ‘man’ or the word ‘hero?’”

Tristan froze. “What did you say?”

“The correct translation is ‘A noble hero, pure of heart,
will break the spell,’” Duncan replied. “It’s never made a difference in the
past because only men could have been considered heroes or warriors. But this
time—”

“This time the hero is a woman, which is why Morganna tried
to kill the entire family,” Rufus said.

“Which is why the fae are drawn to her,” Andrew added,
nodding his head in understanding.

“Which is why we need to protect her,” Tristan said.

“Which is why you are going to have to prostrate yourself at
her feet and beg her forgiveness,” Garrett said. “Because you are the very last
person in the world she will want to see.”

“And the very last person she is going to want to help,”
Duncan added.

They stood on the top of the hill, their coarsely
woven clothing whipped against their bodies by the wind and they watched the
horse-drawn black carriages parade from the village to the small cemetery next
to the estate.
 
To anyone watching, they
looked like a pair of Gypsies from the nearby camp coming to pay their respects
to the Lord and Lady
Dunower
, and their daughter. Three
carriages, two drawn by black horses and one by a giant bay horse with livery
men dressed in black uniforms slowly made their way up the road, garlands of
flowers adorning them.

“Someone remembered my mother’s favorite flower was
heather,” Meaghan said quietly. “She would be pleased.”

“And Lord John would be happy to know that Galahad is
pulling his hearse,” Jepson added, his voice rough. “He loved that horse.”

“And what of my hearse?” Meaghan asked. “No special
ornamentation for me?”

“I understand young Monty searched through all of the
rubble to locate your sword, but could not find it,” he replied. “And he did
not want anything showy that you would not appreciate.”

She chuckled sadly. “That was good of him,” she said.
“He is a good man. He will make an excellent earl.”

“Only if his mother does not influence him,” Jepson
warned. “And she is very persuasive.”

They watched the hearses pull into the cemetery and
the coffins being unloaded and carried to the waiting graves. “I do not think I
can bear watching them place them in the ground,” she said. “It is too final a
step. I’m not ready.”

“Then come, let’s walk back to the camp and gather our
things,” Jepson said, placing his arm around her shoulders and leading her away
from the funeral. “We have a long journey ahead of us.”

She stopped, the Old Woods before them and shook her
head. “I am not going to London, Jepson.”

“That was your father’s wish,” he said. “You have
enough money to start a new life.”

“I don’t want a new life,” she replied.

“You cannot help the Eochaidh,” he reminded her. “Your
father said it had to be a man.”

“The Eochaidh can rot in hell for all I care,” she
replied angrily. “I feel no allegiance to them.”

“Then why won’t you go to London?” he asked. “What do
you want?”

She turned and met his eyes, her face stern and
resolute. “I want revenge.”

The End

About the author: 

Terri Reid lives in Northwest Illinois, in an old house
surrounded by a small woods, that she is sure has fairies living in it. Instead
of horses, she takes her three big dogs on romps through the woods to chase any
goblins away. She loves hearing from her readers at
 
[email protected]
.

Books by Terri Reid:

Loose Ends – A Mary O’Reilly Paranormal Mystery (Book
One)

Good Tidings – A Mary O’Reilly Paranormal Mystery (Book
Two)

Never Forgotten – A Mary O’Reilly Paranormal Mystery
(Book Three)

Final Call – A Mary O’Reilly Paranormal Mystery (Book
Four)

Darkness Exposed – A Mary O’Reilly Paranormal Mystery
(Book Five)

Natural Reaction – A Mary O’Reilly Paranormal Mystery
(Book Six)

Secret Hollows – A Mary O’Reilly Paranormal Mystery
(Book Seven)

Broken Promises – A Mary O’Reilly Paranormal Mystery
(Book Eight)

Twisted Paths – A Mary O’Reilly Paranormal Mystery
(Book Nine)

Veiled Passages – A Mary O’Reilly Paranormal Mystery
(Book Ten)

Bumpy Roads – A Mary O’Reilly Paranormal Mystery (Book Eleven)

The Ghosts
Of
New Orleans – A
Paranormal Research and Containment Division (PRCD) Case File