“Rectors rise,” a deep voice boomed above the din of conversation.
The talking stopped and all but two people from every group sat down. Among their group Liam and Irial remained standing. Neala’s gaze was drawn beyond them to a man in his early twenties who stood atop a log.
“The elders refused to come. With the enemy knockin’ at our door still they won’t acknowledge the danger. We alone are left to defend our land,” the man said.
A massive roar of disapproval rose from the crowd. Neala added her voice but Cian and Irial’s were so loud they drowned her out. Her heart swelled to know she wasn’t alone in her frustration. A woman stepped onto the log beside the man and all fell silent. The way their power merged and outlined them both as if they were one entity made Neala realize they were a Rector couple.
“The fight is comin’ to us. We have to prepare. Liam and Irial have proposed that we form fianns and begin battle trainin’. Who among us supports this?” the woman asked.
Hands shot into the air and a roar of approval passed through those gathered. Neala looked up at Liam and Irial where they stood beside her. Their hands were clutched together and their mingled energy was every bit as powerful as the couple addressing the crowd. She’d had no idea they were going to suggest such a thing and she was proud beyond imagining that they had. Her power had not failed her when it had chosen this group as her Order.
“It does me power good to see ye so ready to defend us,” the man on the log said. “Before we make any decisions, every Rector needs to have their say.”
He and the woman stepped down and another pair of Rectors took their place. Each of the Rectors stood and spoke. There were five pairs in all; a lot considering less than two weeks ago Neala hadn’t realized there were any other druids at all. Some spoke of how much they had to lose by giving up their land, of how as druids they were connected to it. Others spoke of the death and destruction they had witnessed and of the ruthlessness of the invaders. All agreed the Danes had crossed a line they’d never crossed before and that this time they weren’t going to stop.
The discussion soon moved on to tactics and fighting strategies. With only thirty of them, they were hoping at least some of the people who weren’t druids would join the fight. They were losing their land and lives too, after all. Once the discussion started to die down the Rectors gathered for a talk of their own.
All the talking was starting to wear on Neala. This was time she could have been practicing, honing her skills for the upcoming battle. Unable to sit still any longer, she stood and started pacing. It drove her half mad to see Bren sitting there patiently in a near-meditative state. Usually his calm demeanor helped calm her but right now it made her want to shake him and scream. Dubh stood behind the log the others sat upon, his head bobbing as he pawed a hole into the ground. At least he shared her anxiety.
“I hope they hurry. If we sit here much longer I might burst,” Kyla complained. She was leaning back against Cian with her arms crossed, fingers drumming out a rhythm on her forearms.
“I could help with that,” Cian said in a suggestive tone.
Kyla rolled her eyes and slapped him on the arm. Her energy and Cian’s swirled chaotically around one another and the vortex tugged at Neala’s own energy. Next to them Bren’s power was the complete opposite, focused and balanced. Looking at them, Neala realized her own power was being affected by Kyla’s and Cian’s. The surprise must have shown on her face because Bren smiled at her knowingly. He grabbed her hand and pulled her down onto the log next to him.
“Their power can affect yers if ye don’t know how to block it,” he said.
Kyla shrugged. “Sorry Neala. I’m tired of sittin’. I just want to
do
something,” she said.
The buzzing of Neala’s power eased a bit, allowing her to breathe easier. Knowing someone felt the same way she did was a huge relief.
“No harm done. I feel the same way,” she said.
Kyla’s and Cian’s energy calmed a little and ceased the wild swirling. That, coupled with the soothing feel of Bren’s hand around hers, was enough to help Neala feel grounded again. The Rectors returned and the calm feeling dissolved into chaotic energy. Silence fell as Liam and Irial jumped atop the log in the center of the crowd.
“The Orders will be partnered together to create three fianns,” Liam announced.
“The fianns will train together every other day startin’ tomorrow. Every Order is encouraged to train on their own between days of combined training,” Irial said.
“Choose a member of yer Order to act as a rider in case news needs to be spread. Go now, begin preparin’ for battle,” Liam said.
They spoke seamlessly, one sentence flowing into the next as if they were reading one another’s thoughts. It made Neala wonder about the depth of their connection.
The crowd took to their feet cheering and began to divide into their Orders. Liam and Irial made their way through the chaos to rejoin them. Their flushed faces and pulsing power energized Neala and made her feel as though she could take on the world. Which was good considering she figured that was pretty much what they were about to do.
16
The summer sun beat down upon her, drying the sweat on her brow before it had the chance to drip into her eyes. Her wooden practice sword clashed with Bren’s as they parried, blocked, and swung at one another. Irial said channeling energy into wood was a lot harder than steel so it made her that much stronger for battle. If it accomplished that she didn’t mind.
Bren didn’t take it easy on her and not only because she insisted that he didn’t. If he didn’t fight hard she beat him, which was exactly what she was trying to do now. After a long day of practice they were both tiring and it was hard to tell who had the upper hand.
They had been training like this for nearly a week. With Irial’s guidance she was learning how to channel enough power through her sword to easily defeat even the strongest Dane, or so she hoped. That coupled with Liam’s instruction on how to control her power, raised her to a level she hadn’t even dreamed she could reach. Working with her Order was amazing. It was as though they were of one mind, easily predicting each other’s needs and moves.
Unfortunately, Bren hadn’t been much help beyond being a sparring partner. He made it clear that he opposed the idea of her going into battle and he refused to help any more than he had to. It made Neala train all the harder to prove to him that she could do it.
“Rider!” Kayla called out in her piercing voice.
Alarm coursed through Neala, washing away her weariness. Swords crossed, she and Bren stopped. His wide eyes stared at her as he lowered his wooden sword. She knew what he was thinking because she was thinking it too. The Danes were coming.
A red horse galloped into the meadow and came to a skidding stop that nearly sent its rider over its head. Atop the horse was a boy who looked to be barely thirteen. He was white as a ghost and from the way he was trembling Neala was guessing his coloring wasn’t due to the elusive Irish sun. The strength flowed out of her and she lowered her sword. The look on the boy’s face convinced her she didn’t want to hear what he had to say, yet she had to. Concern rooted her to the spot. Her parents still weren’t home. The news could be about them.
Irial handed the boy a waterskin. Water dribbled down his chin as he took a long drink. Neala had to fight the urge to pull him from his horse and shake the words from him. Her power spiked with her rising frustration and she had trouble stifling it. Bren’s hand came to rest on her shoulder. The soothing feeling that spread from him helped her regain control of her power.
“The healers have returned,” the boy managed before he had to gasp for air.
Neala’s knees went weak with relief. Bren slid his arm around her waist, supporting her.
“There’s also a troop of about thirty Danes coming from the Wicklow Mountains. They appear to be carryin’ wounded,” the boy finished.
“How far away are they?” Liam asked.
“Less than half a day’s ride by now,” the boy said.
“Me parents,” Neala murmured.
Irial’s hand settled on Neala’s shoulder. “Go, check on them,” she said. “Meet back here tonight when the moon rises or send word if ye can’t.”
Fear and concern warred within Irial’s eyes, making Neala hesitate. She didn’t want to leave them but she had to check on her parents. Irial took her hand and strength and confidence flowed into her.
“It’s all right, go. We have to gather the others before we can do anythin’. If they’re bringin’ wounded then they probably didn’t come to fight,” she said.
“Not yet at least,” Cian grumbled behind them.
Neala nodded and turned in to Bren whose grip on her had become almost painfully tight. The look of utter fear in his eyes made her hesitate. The idea of being away from him was so painful it made her power crackle and her heart speed up.
“I have to go,” she said as much to convince herself as him.
“I know. And I have to check on me ma,” he said.
He hugged her so tight she couldn’t draw in a breath. But, holding him was more important than breathing just then. They didn’t pull apart until Liam’s power spilled over them both and he gripped Bren’s shoulder.
“Be careful,” Bren whispered before he let her go.
“Ye too. I’ll see ye tonight,” she said.
The moment he stepped away she turned and ran before she could lose her nerve. Dubh’s tail went up and he whinnied at her approach. She paused only long enough to put her sword belt on, make sure her sword was secure in its scabbard, and throw the reins over Dubh’s neck. She vaulted onto his back, turned him toward the path, and let him go.
“Keep her safe púca,” Bren called out.
It almost made her smile and raised a powerful urge in her to look back. But she didn’t. If she looked back she might turn around and she couldn’t do that. No matter how badly she needed Bren and her Order, her parents may need her right now.
17
When she burst from the forest, Neala saw their two geldings standing in the paddock beside the barn. Smoke drifted lazily up from the chimney of the house. They were home, her parents were really home.
Neala didn’t bother stopping Dubh. The moment he slowed to a trot she leapt from his back and hit the ground running. She flung the door open and stumbled inside.
“Da, ma!” she cried.
Her ma was in the kitchen stirring something on the stove while her da was lounging on the bench beside the fire. Seeing them safe released a massive pressure from inside her chest and nearly drew a sob from her. The simple domestic scene felt so out of place that it took a moment for Neala to process it. How could they be so calm? Then it struck her. They didn’t know the Danes were coming.
“Neala dear, what’s wrong?” her ma asked.
“The Danes are comin’!” she said.
They stared at her and said nothing. Her da sat up as if trying to get a better look at her to make sure she wasn’t crazy. Sure he probably wasn’t thinking that, but it felt that way. The disbelief on his face was not encouraging.
“That’s not possible. When we left this morning the scouts said they were headed back to Dublin,” Cecily said in a dismissive tone.
Her words grated on Neala’s nerves almost as much as her tone. If she couldn’t convince them to hide… no she couldn’t even think it. Neala turned on her.
“Well yer scout was wrong. Our scout saw thirty Danes marchin’ this way.”
Cecily’s face turned such a bright red that it looked painful. Neala hoped it was. She couldn’t believe her ma was being so daft. A few deep breaths helped her gain a little bit of control over her temper.
“What do ye mean
yer
scouts?” Cecily asked.
Neala ignored her. Now was not the time. “We have to get into the forest and hide. Now,” she said through gritted teeth.
Ardal stood and approached, shaking his head. “Thirty isn’t an invadin’ force. Chances are they won’t even come this far,” he said.
He was right, she knew, but it didn’t change the fact that they were in danger. Danes were brutal and knew no mercy. She’d heard stories about how a handful of them could lay waste to a village. It probably wasn’t true, but she wasn’t going to take that chance with her parents’ lives.
“I’m sure that’s what the people of Uí Faelain said. What are they sayin’ now?” Neala demanded as she leaned toward her da. She’d had enough of their denial. The time they had to escape and hide was slipping away.
Pain filled her da’s eyes and he looked away. A towel slapped onto the counter and Cecily stepped around it. Her hands were upon her hips and there was fire in her eyes.
“The people of Uí Faelain died because they resisted. If we don’t fight the Danes they will leave us be,” she said.
Neala shook with the effort of holding back her rage. She threw her hands up and let out a frustrated cry. “I saw them ma. It wasn’t just warriors. I saw the bodies of women and children. Scores of them. They. Won’t. Spare. Anyone.”
Tears spilled from Cecily’s eyes but they didn’t wash the rage from them.
“Ye stay away from there. If they find out that any of our kind still exist they won’t stop until they wipe us out. We can’t fight them,” she said.
Neala laughed and it came out sounding slightly crazed. “Ye can’t fight them, but it turns out I can,” she said.
Cecily flinched as if Neala had slapped her and raw pain ravaged her features.
“Ye were never supposed to know about that. It’s not the life we wanted for ye,” Cecily said. Her soft tone only fueled Neala’s rage.
“It’s me life ma! It’s what I am. How could ye have kept the truth about what I am from me?”
Stuttering, Cecily shook her head and looked down, unable to get the words out. Ardal stepped up and put an arm around her shoulders. He fixed Neala with a hard look that made her power flare.
“Yer ma’s family fought and died, killed because they were druids. Then yer brother died the same way. We couldn’t stand for that to happen to ye. Ye’re all we have left,” he said.