Of Gifts and the Goddess

Chapter 8

8

Anne stumbled, but quickly regained her balance. She was stunned at what Duncan had revealed. The McClearys, murderers? How could that be? They only tried to defend themselves on that autumn morning. The assistance that the O’Connors had brought with them were mercenaries that survived in the woods and hills and raided villages whenever they chose. Having much time to contemplate the why and how of the Battle at Lough Sheelin, Anne only knew the O’Connors had not come alone, but never could settle on a reason for the battle. She didn’t believe Duncan was at Lough Sheelin five years ago. That, or he was an accomplished liar. She would take some time to think about what he had just shared. She sat down on the log next to the youngest McCleary Clan member.

Shane looked at her with worry. When she glanced up, and he saw the clear green of her eyes, his chest squeezed. He’d been feeling this way for some time. Shane figured to be the next male clan leader, and he would take his cue from Anne before he made her his wife. When he allowed himself to dream, his dreams were of her in a meadow and sunlight so bright it hurt his eyes. He reached up to push her long hair behind her ear. Anne was so used to the gesture, she didn’t take it for what it was. She smiled briefly at him, hoping to let him know she was alright. Shane let a whisper of a smile touch his lips as he pulled his hand away, his eyes glancing down so she wouldn’t see too much.

Douglas had pulled the leftover rabbit from his pack and was passing it around with a flask of water and hard biscuits. Anne took a sip and a few nibbles for herself, before going to where Brave was tied. She removed the leather from around his muzzle and offered some to him. He took it gently from her fingers, licking them clean. She rubbed her other hand over his head, hoping to instill some confidence, in herself or in him, she couldn’t be sure which.

The small repast ended quickly. It appeared Duncan really was in a hurry to return to Ballinderry. He had retrieved his stallion, a large black war horse, and Friend, and was leading them back to where Anne continued to sit.

She studied the way he moved. He seemed confident and could ride well, but he wasn’t as tanned as the other O’Connors. She tipped her head to the side as she thought. It was almost as if he spent a majority of his time indoors rather than on the practice field or riding his horse. His boots were worn soft, but his breeches and tunic, though travel dirty, looked newly made. His long, dark hair was loose around his shoulders. When she focused in on his handsome face and bright gray eyes, she found amusement there. Unable to keep her lips from tipping up at the corners, she could not help but be pleased at the physical perfection of him. The Goddess had chosen well for her.

The ghost of a smile on Anne’s face only added to her beauty. Duncan took the opportunity to drink in her open expression. The breeze played in her hair, the sunlight sparkled in her green eyes, setting off yellow and darker green flecks. Her cheekbones were sharp in her face, reminding Duncan how thin she was. Concern and confusion brought his brows together, breaking the spell between them.

Anne’s smile faltered, and she dropped her gaze to his lips. That wasn’t helping the heat that had gathered in her low belly. She shifted her gaze to his right ear, which was being alternately hidden and then revealed by the wind ruffling his hair. Did all men have such attractive ears? Anne thought about Stephen’s and realized again that his memory was fading. Would there soon come a day when she wouldn’t remember him at all? That made her feel confused and sad, but she covered her feelings by standing and approaching Friend. Just as she was about to grab a handful of mane and swing herself up, Duncan pulled out a familiar length of rope.

Anne sighed and held out her hands. “What do you plan to do to us once we return to Ballinderry?”

That was a question Duncan wasn’t sure how to answer. When starting out on this expedition, he was driven by revenge and a sense of duty to his brother and Clan O’Connor. The longer he was with Anne and her companions, the more confused he became. There were many unanswered questions. It didn’t make sense to him that if they were stealing food, they should not be so thin. He had seen no actions from the McClearys that would convince him they were capable of killing livestock and raiding villages. It should have been very easy to hate her. He should have plans to try them before all of Ballinderry, then hang them for their offenses. At the image of Anne dangling from a rope, an intense pain assailed his gut. He groaned and doubled over.

On instinct, Anne stepped forward and placed her hand on his shoulder. She felt the pain in his stomach. Glancing around, no one else seemed to be inflicted, so she ruled out spoiled food. She took a breath, closed her eyes, and reached for her Sight. It was there. The Goddess hadn’t left her. Relief softened her shoulders. The pain was a consequence to Duncan’s thought of harming her. The Goddess was displeased with him. The corner of Anne’s lips turned up as she realized Duncan would be fine.

The warmth of her hand on his shoulder spread quickly, the pain disappearing as suddenly as it had arrived.