Of Gifts and the Goddess

Chapter 2

2

Anne signaled the others, then silently slid off Friend, her horse, and onto the ground. Dusk was settling in around them. There would be no moon tonight, to their benefit, and if the Goddess smiled on them, they would have food and a few more weapons by night’s end.

She knew the moment she and the remaining members of Clan McCleary were being followed. It started two days ago, that familiar ache between her shoulders. Then the dreams. She dared not tell the others, as they would no longer follow her if they knew she made her decisions on where they went and what they did based on her dreams and her witch’s wisdom. The words made her cringe inside, to think of what Stephen called her Sight, her intuition, feelings she had grown used to having and to using to keep her alive and safe from harm.

The dreams took more deciphering and time for her to figure out their meaning.

Lately, the dreams had been of an unknown man, not those of Stephen, of whom she had dreamed of in the past. If she thought about it, she dreamed of Stephen less and less. She wondered if time would totally erase her memories of him from her mind. She shook her head at her silent musings and forced herself back to the task at hand, but the dream she’d had last night still lingered. It was the most vivid vision she ever had.

The man was tall and dark, his face not shown to her. There was a silver light emanating from behind him, moving through him, which formed into a ribbon coming from his heart out towards her. She wasn’t afraid, but felt a kind of awe. He didn’t move in her direction, but seemed to grow bigger, brighter. When she looked down at herself to find out where the tingling was coming from, she was surprised to see herself glowing. Not a glow of a campfire or a candle, but a golden glow that seemed to come from her skin. When she glanced up at the man, the light around her grew to a ribbon and reached out for the silver threads coming from the man. This was what frightened her. If he caught her, controlled her, what would happen to the rest of Clan McCleary? In defiance, she turned and tried to run, but the silver threads only lengthened and thickened, and snared her smartly around the waist. It was at this point in her dream that she felt a quickening of her pulse, the tingling between her shoulders that spread out to warm her entire body. As she was pulled back towards the man, she struggled, though she didn’t want to and knew it would be futile. And then a calmness and contentment came over her. She looked down and saw the golden glow from her body tangled with the silver light coming from the man behind her. And she knew.

Standing next to Friend, she took a steadying breath and shut the dream firmly from her mind. Taking a step back from the horse, she whistled softly, and Friend ambled off to find some forest grass, the rest of the horses following. At another whistle, Anne crouched down and moved silently through the brush towards the fire they saw glowing in the clearing ahead. As the remaining seven members of Clan McCleary moved closer to the camp set up by the O’Connor, they had one thing in mind, which was to steal what they could and get out with their lives.

The rabbit roasting on the spit was as good a bait as Duncan could have planned. He smiled when he thought about catching the McCleary. They were close. He knew they could not stay away. He glanced around the clearing, checking the location of his men. They were instructed to disarm the marauders, but not to cause injury. Enos and Malcolm had been instructed to fetch their ponies to limit their chance for escape. He lifted the flask of water to his lips as he casually scanned the trees surrounding the clearing. Aye, he thought. They had picked a good place to put an end to the McClearys once and for all.

Through a series of whistles, Anne sent out her companions. Three were to circle to the left of the clearing, three to the right. She would climb a tree and give signals for the location of the sentries, the food and weapons as well. She found an oak tree whose limbs started about four feet from the ground. Twice that distance up the trunk was a heavy branch which Anne thought would hold her. She stretched up to catch that branch, then braced her foot on the bottom one, and began to climb.

Once she was crouched upon the limb, she looked out over the clearing. She counted twelve soldiers. More than what she had expected. They would wait, and once the soldiers bedded down, her companions would sneak in and take what they needed. She gave three low, long whistles, not unlike that of an owl, to let her clan know they would wait.

Duncan hesitated slightly at the hoot of the owl. He forced himself not to glance in the direction of the noise. His brows drew together as he thought back to his tutoring from the game master at Ballinderry. He was sure there were no owls in the forest this time of year. They had moved further down into the valley because the abundance of field mice made hunting for a meal easy.

Duncan relaxed his features and bent down to pick up a long stick to stir the coals of the fire. After spreading the remaining burning logs apart, better for them to burn down through the night, the O’Connor soldiers shuffled towards various blankets cast onto the ground around the fire. Only they knew Duncan’s stirring of the coals meant their quarry was near.

They made small talk and a show of unbuckling their swords to lie beside their bedrolls. Duncan himself took up a sentry position by a tree some distance away from his men, yet very close to where the owl hooted. He sat down heavily, leaned his broad back against the rough bark of the tree, stretched his long legs out in front of him and crossed them at the ankles. With a great stretch and a yawn, he feigned drifting off to sleep.

Anne wrinkled her brow and frowned. What was he doing so far away from the fire and the others? Why had they all gone to bed at the same time? She ignored the cramping in her legs from her long wait on her perch on the branch. Something wasn’t right, but she didn’t know what it was. She glanced around the clearing, now set in more shadows because the blasted man had stirred the coals. She c****d her head to the side as she thought. That was it! The man had given a signal. He knew they were close.

Just as she drew a quiet breath to whistle a retreat, a rustling and the appearance of Shane, the youngest of the McCleary she had allowed on the foray, at the edge of the clearing had the breath freezing in her throat. Nay! Surely he would be caught! That was the last thought Anne had, as one by one, the rest of her clan stepped into the clearing and inched their way towards the fire and the spit of rabbit. As they drew closer to the center of the clearing, quietly stepping around sleeping bodies, she knew the trap was sprung. The so-called sleeping soldiers sprang up from the ground, throwing off their blankets in the same motion as they drew their swords from the scabbards that lay beside them. Anne had seen enough. She needed to get away if she was to have a chance to free her clan later.

She jumped down, ignoring the sting as her feet hit the ground. Letting out a low whistle, followed by a high short note, she expected Friend to come at once. She darted as quickly as she could under the low-hanging tree branches. Blast it! Where was that mare? Hurrying through the brush, she drew breath to whistle again, only to have her breath rush out in a whoosh! as a forearm snaked around her and snapped her back to a solid body. For a moment, she was caught up in the dream again. No wonder her Sight never warned her. This was the man from her dream. This was the man whom the Goddess had chosen for her. Instinct made Anne struggle anyway.

Before Duncan could contain both her arms, she landed an elbow in his side and was rewarded with a grunt and a quiet curse. No sooner had both her arms been contained than she swung back with her leg to catch him on the shin. Having had enough of the struggling captive, Duncan hooked his foot around the captive’s ankle and pulled. Before Anne knew what was going to happen, the ground rushed up at her. At the last second, Duncan flipped her around so she landed on her back, the air in her lungs rushing out. Duncan knew he had only a few seconds in which to contain the captive before breath returned, so he straddled the body under him, pinning the arms on either side of the head and using his feet to lock the captive’s legs to the ground. The first thing Duncan felt were the bones poking him on his inner thigh. The second thing he noticed was how small the wrists were that he held.