Warriors Of Legend (6 page)

He nodded. “Indeed I was,” he replied. “They were form of Old Gaelic. I told her that somewhere, somehow, she must have heard the phrases and tucked them back into her subconscious. She thought that ghosts were talking to her and I told her that there had to be a rational explanation.”

Aisling just shook her head, baffled by the entire event. “I can’t believe she didn’t say anything to me about it,” she said. “I’ve known her since we were ten years old and she tells me absolutely everything.”

Conor thought about the implications of that; his growing interest and concern in Destry prompted him to ask questions he hoped Aisling didn’t consider probing. He tried to be cool about it.

“Has she ever pulled anything like this before?” he asked.

Aisling shook her head. “No way,” she said firmly. “Not Des. It’s not like her to leave and not tell anyone. She’s one of the most normal, down–to–earth people I know. She’s, like, the most perfect person you’ll ever meet. She doesn’t smoke or drink, she even flosses her teeth every night. Did she tell you that she’s a nurse?”

“She did.”

Aisling pointed a finger at him. “She’s not just any nurse; she volunteers her skills to Doctors without Borders and she’s gone to Haiti twice to give free medical care to refugees. She’s like a modern–day Florence Nightingale.” She suddenly shook her head again, looking out of the window as the rain pounded. “What that jerk did to her on her wedding day… I swear, so many people want to kill him. Her dad probably put a contract out on him already.”

Conor was forced to slow down in order to take the roundabout. “How did she meet him?”

Aisling held on to the door handle as they took the circular turn. “He’s a wide receiver for the San Diego Chargers,” she said, looking at him. “Do you know who they are?”

For the first time since getting into the car, he grinned. “Yes, I know who they are,” he said, changing lanes as they entered the N51 motorway. “I’m a fan of American Football.”

“Oh,” Aisling continued with her story, gazing out over the new highway. “Anyway, he was a wide receiver and she was one of the Charger Girls, their cheerleading squad. She only tried out for the squad because some of her friends dared her to but she ended up making it. Boy, was she hot in that little Charger outfit. She got a boob job and she looked like… uh, that was probably too much information, right?”

Conor fought off a broader grin. “Not at all. It explains why I… well, that
would
be too much information, so forget it.”

Aisling snorted. “Well, she was the hottest cheerleader they had, at any rate. She was even on the cover of their calendar last year. She was smoking.”

“She still is,” he cast her a long look before refocusing on the road, causing Aisling to giggle.

“I saw that you noticed,” she teased him. He just wriggled his eyebrows and she continued. “Anyway, I guess he saw her on the sidelines and found out who she was. The cheer squad isn’t supposed to fraternize with the players, but he really pursued her heavily. He was a nice guy in the beginning but really full of himself. It was clear that he put himself before her, in almost everything. I got to the point where I just kind of tolerated him because she was so in love with him, but when he left her at the altar… well, that went beyond even what I thought he was capable of. What an ass.”

Conor didn’t say anything as he read the motorway signs that were coming into view. “Is she into professional athletes, then?”

Aisling gazed out of the window at the wet, green countryside. “Not really,” she said. “She’s dated cops, firemen, salesmen… she even dated an actor once. But she always says it doesn’t matter what he is but who he is on the inside. She seemed to attract all of the superficial guys because of her looks, hardly any that were nice to her just because she was sweet and genuine. But after this debacle, I’m sure she’s sworn men off forever.”

Conor changed lanes again as their exit approached. “That would be a real tragedy.”

Aisling grinned, turning to look at him. “I don’t think she’s dated a college professor before. Do you want me to put a good word in for you, Dr. Daderga?”

He grinned but wouldn’t look at her. “To a woman like that? Only in my dreams.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Aisling’s brown eyes twinkled. “She seemed to enjoy the conversation with you yesterday. I think she kind of liked you.”

He looked at her, hardly daring to hope. “Do you really think so?”

Grinning, Aisling pointed at the highway sign coming up. “There’s our exit.”

Conor refocused on the road, taking the off ramp and taking a left onto Littlegrange Road. The rain was coming down in sheets as they headed south, the road eventually turning into Dowth Road as they neared the mound. They could see it in the distance, a great green loaf rising above the flat countryside, and he sped up. When they finally pulled into the carpark, water and mud sprayed as he came to an abrupt halt. He threw the car into Park and turned to Aisling.

“You stay here,” he told her. “If she doesn’t want to be found, she might run from me. I need you to stay here in case she runs; you can see the entire mound from here. If she takes off and you see her, I want you to honk the horn like crazy. All right?”

Aisling nodded, watching him get out of the car. “Do you want an umbrella?”

He shook his head, pulling his crumpled Drogheda United baseball–style hat out of the backseat and pulling onto his spiked hair. Slamming the car door, he zipped up his rain coat and began to walk around the base of the mound, heading towards the southern tunnels.

The rain was letting up somewhat as he made his way around the east side of the mound. It was heavy with wet foliage and protected him from the light rain that was now falling. The clouds above were even starting to clear and patches of blue appeared. Moving through the dripping brush, he came upon the first of the three tunnels. Pulling out his torch, he flashed it down into the tunnel but saw nothing; it was dark and cold.

He moved on to the second tunnel and shined his torch in that one, but it was black and empty. The third tunnel was several feet away and he went to hit, pulling out his torch and preparing to shine it into that tunnel. But as he took a step into the dark archway, he immediately spied a lump on the ground just a few feet from the door.

Startled, he flashed his torch downward and saw Destry sitting with her back against the wall, huddled in a ball. Her knees were up, her arms embracing them and her face was buried in the tops of her knees. When the flashlight fell on her, she yelped in fright, her head swiftly coming up. Conor jumped, too, because she had. He snapped off the torch so it wouldn’t blind her.

“Destry?” he went into a crouch in the small tunnel, moving towards her in the wet earth. “What are you doing here, sweetheart? You scared Aisling to death when she couldn’t find you.”

Destry looked at him; she was pale, her beautiful face streaked where she had wept and wiped her face with dirty hands. She was also wet, shivering in the darkness.

“How did you find me?” she asked.

He could see how cold she was and he knelt beside her, taking her hands into his warm palms and feeling that they were like ice. “I took a wild guess when Aisling said you were missing,” he told her. “How did you get here?”

His warm hands felt so good. She looked down at his massive mitts as they closed around her small ones and fat tears began to roll down her cheeks.

“I took a taxi,” she whispered. “It cost me a fortune.”

He caressed her cold hands, trying to rub some warmth back into her fingers. “Why did you do it?”

She wiped at her cheeks. “I tried to go back to sleep this morning when I went back to the hotel,” she wept softly. “Every time I closed my eyes, those whispers came back. And there were faces; white faces, scary faces. I couldn’t really see them clearly but they were there, trying to talk to me. Then I’d wake up scared, fall back asleep again, and then wake up screaming all over again. It happened four times. I know you told me that it was my subconscious mind playing tricks on me, but I just don’t think it is. Nothing like this has ever happened to me before.”

He could see how upset she was and he put a big hand on her head. “Oh, sweetheart,” he murmured. “I’m so sorry. But it still doesn’t explain why you came back here.”

“Because,” she sounded angry. “I figured if I couldn’t get away from the whispers, then I’d at least try to make friends with them. Maybe they’ll leave me alone then. So I came out here and I’ve been talking to them all afternoon.”

“Have they talked back?”

She looked at him reluctantly. “No,” she said, glancing around the dark tunnel and sighing heavily. “It’s been quiet and still, just like this. Oh, hell; maybe I am crazy. I just don’t know anymore.”

She hung her head again and started to cry. He sat down beside her and opened up his jacket, putting it around her as he pulled her against his big, warm torso. She was freezing cold and he held her close, trying to warm her. She wept softly and he hugged her, his cheek against the top of her head.

“Don’t cry,” he murmured. “I’m sure whatever this is, it will pass. If it doesn’t, I’ll volunteer to spend the nights with you and chase the bad dreams away. They wouldn’t dare tangle with me.”

Her face was against his chest, a warm and comforting thing. After a moment, she lifted her head and he looked down at her, realizing she was smiling. The wet, bright blue eyes gazed up at him.

“You
are
pretty scary,” she agreed. “You’re a pretty big guy.”

He lifted a red eyebrow at her. “Big and skilled in the art of warfare from the time of the Romans up until the end of the Medieval period. I can fight with clubs, swords, fists, feet, spears, knives and anything else that can even remotely be used as a weapon. If those ghosts know what’s good for them, they’ll leave you the hell alone.”

Her tears were forgotten at his chivalrous declaration. “You can really fight like that?”

He nodded firmly. “I teach a Medieval Warfare class. I get my students out in the cricket field to the north of the campus and we learn the art of real war, not this sissy sophisticated stuff that we do nowadays. Back in the day, men fought hand to hand and only the strongest survived.”

She smiled faintly. “I saw all of the weapons you had on the wall of your office.”

“I’m very proud of my collection.”

“Ever use them on anybody?”

He wriggled his eyebrows. “Not yet. But if the university is attacked by barbarian hordes, I’m ready.”

She was feeling better with him around; his warmth, his comforting presence. She had spent the past several hours sitting in the tunnel, watching it rain outside and inviting the ghosts to talk to her again.

Once he put his big arms around her and his warmth began to envelope her, she began to realize how exhausted she really was and how foolish it had been to come all the way out here just because of some bad dreams. Maybe she really
was
losing her mind. A botched wedding, grief and exhaustion could do strange things to even the strongest person. She sighed again and looked around.

“Well,” she said after a moment. “Now that you’re here, I really feel like an idiot for coming out here. You didn’t have to come after me.”

He waggled his red eyebrows at her dramatically. “Yes, I did.”

She chuckled softly. “I was just sure that… oh, I don’t know; I guess I was just sure that I would experience something again.”

He leaned down and whispered hotly in her ear, his lips against her flesh. “In am, sárálainn bean.”

She turned to look at him, feeling more than the heat from his body; she was feeling the heat from his gaze and from his words. She found herself watching his full, soft lips, remembering how they tasted.

“What does that mean?” she asked breathlessly.

He smiled faintly. “It means ‘You will in time, beautiful girl’.”

“Will what?”

“Experience something again. Maybe better than before.”

She met his smile, feeling giddy and tremulous against him. He had that effect on her. But her self–defense was kicking in, the last shred of protection between her broken heart and the outside world. She looked away from him but there was a smile on her lips.

“You’re sweet, Dr. Daderga,” she said. “And I’m wet and freezing. I assume you brought a car so I don’t have to take out a loan to pay for a taxi back to Dublin?”

He nodded. “Aisling is waiting for us in my car. We should probably head back before she comes looking for us.”

Destry nodded, somewhat reluctantly, looking around the tunnel one last time as if hoping the ghosts would come forth, just once, so she could prove to Conor that she wasn’t insane. As nice as he was, she knew that he must have some doubt. As she turned to him, she caught a glimpse of the clouds clearing outside the mound. The sun was sitting low on the horizon, creating brilliant orange and yellow rays that warmed the wet countryside. She nodded her head in the direction of the setting sun.

“Look,” she said. “Another beautiful Irish sunset.”

He turned to look at the setting sun even though his attention was on the feeling of her in his arms. As he watched the sun set, he realized that he didn’t want this time with her to end, this magic that he was feeling every time he looked at her. It was an odd sensation, something between adoration and excitement. From the moment he saw her, he had experienced sensations that he had never experienced before, with anyone. As the sunset deepened, he pulled her more tightly against him, watching the dying rays.

“I’m glad I found you out here today,” he said quietly.

She looked at him, his strong profile warmed by the orange rays. “What do you mean?”

He turned to look at her, very close to her face. “Other than the relief that you are in one piece, I’m glad I got to share the sunset with you.”

She looked at him, his intense blue eyes, and felt as if they had reached some sort of pinnacle. Whatever she was feeling for the man, whatever anticipation or excitement he represented, the truth was that she wasn’t emotionally strong enough for it at the moment. It was time for some honesty.