Of Gifts and the Goddess

Chapter 7

7

As the sky lightened to dawn, Anne decided the Goddess must be punishing her. After a near sleepless night, all of the McClearys were bound to their horses, the reins of which were held by six of the O’Connor soldiers. Friend’s lead was held by Duncan himself. Brave, with his leather-secured muzzle, was slung in front on Douglas’s saddle.

It had been a long time since Anne had seen much of the lower country. Her clan’s land for the past three generations had steadily moved from the fertile valleys to the foothills, and finally to the Cuilcagh Mountains where not much could be cultivated. Clan McCleary had been forced to vacillate between lean years, when they were squabbling with surrounding land owners who made deals with her father and grandfather for food and building material, and more robust years, when winters were mild and the McClearys held true to agreements to trade blankets made from the wool of sheep and herbs that only grew at the McCleary’s higher altitudes. In Anne’s twenty-three summers, she had rarely known a time of feasting and abundance often shared by the other clans on this green isle. She didn’t know what it was like to be warm in the winter, as they often traded their best wool, or her belly not growling from a scarcity of food even when there was a surplus, as she always made sure others were cared for first. In these difficult times, Clan O’Connor had steadily increased its land, livestock, and wealth. The Old Clan Leader, Anne’s grandfather, had blamed the O’Connors for the McCleary’s strife. Anne had always thought that if her father and grandfather had stood by their agreements, then Clan McCleary would not have had so many lean years.

The scene behind Anne brought a peculiar tightening to her chest. The Cuilcagh Mountains were still shrouded in fog. She knew she was too far away to hear it, but she could picture the birth of the River Shannon, filling up the Shannon Pot, then the water cascading down the rocks that made up where she had spent the last ten summers. She pictured the vibrant green of the trees, in all shades from pale spring buds to the deep green of the pines. As she turned forward again, she breathed deep to hold the image, swearing she would see it again, that she and the remaining McClearys would not die at the hand of Clan O’Connor.

When she opened her eyes, she saw Duncan had turned around and was staring at her. He glanced above her head, scowled, then seated himself forward again in the saddle.

The sun had been above the horizon for some time when Duncan called a halt. Brave, who was draped across the withers of Douglas’s horse, squirmed to be set upon the ground. As the O’Connor soldiers dismounted, Duncan appeared at her left leg, reaching his hands up to lift her down.

“I’ll manage fine, thanks,” Anne said a moment before swinging her right leg over Friend’s neck, then jumping down to stand in front of Duncan.

He nodded, took her bound wrists, and led her to a fallen tree where the other members of her clan rested. Several of the O’Connor men relieved themselves behind various trees and bushes. Anne quirked an eyebrow as a thought took hold.

Duncan glanced her way as he was tying the horses, and Anne said, “I’d like to do the same,” and dipped her head in the direction of the men, now lacing up the front of their breeches.

A half-smile formed on his features as he walked towards her. “Then let me escort you.”

Anne stood up and followed him in the opposite direction of the men. Once a distance away, she held out her bound hands. “It would be easier to do this if I had use of my hands.”

Duncan thought for a moment, then untied the knot holding her hands together. A faint smile crept across Anne’s features. As she turned around, Duncan grabbed the back of her tunic, her cloak having been removed once the heat of the sun burned off the mist in the trees. Anne turned half-way back around, shrugging her shoulder to look at Duncan’s fist knotted in her shirt, then up to his eyes, quirking an eyebrow in question.

“We have to return to Ballinderry Castle as soon as we can. I can’t waste time tracking you down when you get a thought of escape in that head of yours. The length of my arm is as far away as you will get from me.”

Anne fought off the impulse to cross her legs and dance from foot to foot. What started out to be a potential escape plan turned into a real need. The longer she stood there staring at Duncan, the more pressing her need became. She raised her chin and tried to ignore the heat creeping up her neck to flush her face. Turning quickly away, she undid the lacing of her breeches and cleared her throat.

“Surely those who you raised at Ballinderry taught you basic decency of giving a lady her privacy.”

Duncan’s grip on her shirt shifted, but didn’t loosen, as he turned the other way. Half-hidden behind a bush, Anne took care of nature, willing the heat to leave her face.

Duncan felt her stand and gave her more time to do up her laces, and give him a chance to catch his breath as he tried to ignore the faint buzzing. Seamus would knock him on the side of the head for letting a woman become half-naked and not take advantage of it. It was yet another example of how different the two brothers were.

Anne presented her wrists, looking Duncan defiantly in the eye.

“We’ll break our fast before we move on. I’ll allow you both your hands to feed yourself, and Brave, of course. This constant planning to run away is getting tiresome. Can we not come to some understanding, Anne?”

The flush of embarrassment was quickly replaced by the heat of anger. “The only understanding an O’Connor knows is how to murder people in their sleep and set a village afire,” she said, her words coming out with a strength that made her quake.

Duncan grasped her shoulders to give her a shake. The buzzing intensified. Ignoring the sound, words were pushed out through gritted teeth.

“That is the second time you have accused my name of evil acts. My family has only extended themselves in honest and helpful ways to yours. And by your family’s choice, we were cheated at every turn. The worst time, five years ago, my brother and all but one of Clan O’Connor were killed when we extended a hand to help you McClearys. And for that, you, being the last of the bloodline, will answer for those acts.”

No longer able to ignore the hornet’s nest of noise in his head, Duncan shoved her toward the rest of the group. The instant he let go of her the buzzing stopped. He shook his head and rubbed his temples as he followed Anne back to the others.