Page 64 of Celtic Love and Legends (Lords of Eire)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
T hat crude little cottage in the middle of nowhere was becoming a hive of activity.
Three days after Destry and Conor were blown through the passageway at Dowth, men began to gather. Word had been spread through the small farms and villages to the west of Ciannachta that the king had returned, and men were being summoned to the burial lands of the ancient ones. The area was taboo, but they came anyway.
They began to trickle in, little by little.
The men were so glad to see Conor when they arrived that some actually wept. It was both a powerful and strange experience. They began to set up an encampment to the south of the cottage because so many of them were coming in from the countryside that they needed some place to live while the battle was being planned. Since time was of the essence, they had to move quickly, so the men who had joined them were immediately put to work on making spears and clubs and other weapons using material from the land around them.
The meadow to the south turned into a bustling settlement.
Because of that, Conor had cautioned Destry from straying from the cottage, but he gave no such warning to the boys, who wandered into the encampment and were treated like little kings by the men. Conor’s three warriors seemed nice enough, however, and they were quite respectful of her. They only came into the cottage when invited, and only when Conor was there. They didn’t say much to her, but that wasn’t strange considering she was their queen and any conversation with her was improper unless Conor was involved.
Destry didn’t really mind. She remained in and around the cottage, keeping up with her cooking duties and trying to assimilate into the world her life had become.
After Padraigan had sung the song of poets to her, it took Destry about two days before she realized that she was speaking Gaelic. She could still speak English just fine, but she understood, and could respond to, Gaelic. The boys would chatter at her and she would understand all of it, which was something of a miracle in her mind. Whatever Padraigan did to her had worked, something that fascinated her to no end.
That was just one example in a long line of things that were rare and unusual in this strange new world. After the shock of landing in the middle of this new life wore off, the reality of what they found themselves in began to settle deep. No phones, streaming services, or food delivery. No shower—no bathroom as Destry knew them. A bath was a luxury, and Padraigan didn’t have a dedicated washroom. The toilet was a hole in the ground next to the creek behind the cottage. One squatted over it, did one’s business, and wiped with whatever one could find—leaves, grass, or whatever.
Since hygiene was important to Destry, something she refused to compromise on more than she had to, she had Conor help her make the toilet area more acceptable. They gathered big, soft leaves to use as toilet paper. He helped her rig up a wall of leafy branches around the hole in the ground for more privacy. He even took one of the stools from the cottage, sawed a big hole in the middle of it, and put it over the hole in the ground so she had something to sit on when she did her business. Destry insisted they keep a big bucket of water next to the stool so that when they were finished, they could clean up with it and also use a little to wash the waste down into the creek, which was fairly deep and flowed quickly. That was the best they could do for a toilet at the moment, but she wanted to get her hands on some vinegar to clean the toilet and try to keep the smell down.
That wasn’t a priority, however, and it became even less of one as men from Conor’s army began arriving. Conor was tied up with them most of the time in planning the coming invasion of Cashel Cian, leaving Destry and the boys mostly on their own. Even Padraigan was wrapped up with the building army, so Destry and the boys took charge of their living quarters. That meant changes were in the air, because Destry was determined to “modernize” their abode.
After the toilet was built, she set about either rigging a shower or somehow creating a bathtub. The simplest thing seemed to be rigging a shower, and she did so with the help of Mattock and Devlin. There were several buckets around because of the livestock, so she had the boys grab one. The next thing they needed was a rope, but they couldn’t find one until Devlin suggested they use old vines. That turned into a big project, as they took old, wild flowering vines that were past their prime, braiding them to form a long rope, which was secured to the bucket.
Then came the tree.
Out back, by the toilet next to the stream, were several trees, and Destry put the boys on collecting more leafy branches to build a stall under a larger branch of one of the trees. There were three sides to the makeshift stall, with the fourth side facing the stream, and Mattock and Devlin took delight in poking a big hole in the bottom of the bucket and then using the wooden piece they’d popped out to act like the stopper. After being looped over the branch, the bucket simply needed to be filled with water—then one would pull the plug, and it became a showerhead of sorts. Although it would be high maintenance, it was better than nothing. Destry couldn’t wait to try it.
Conor came home that evening after having been with the men all day long, and she proudly showed him what she’d rigged up. The older boys were quite proud of it also. He grinned at her ingenuity, thinking it looked like it might come down on top of her, but he didn’t say so. He congratulated her for trying.
Then came the obvious question of soap and shampoo, at least from Destry. Conor was able to secure soap from Padraigan, who had purchased it in the village months ago to use on the boys. The little woman kept a clean house, and clean children, and the hard, lumpy soap was part of that. Once Destry realized she had a bar of soap that smelled of peppermint and rosemary, she was absolutely determined to try out her new shower.
Conor had to help her, of course, and it turned into a not-so-simple production. Buckets of hot water had to be lugged outside and put into the bucket over the tree trunk. Conor had also secured a coverlet around the stall for more privacy as Destry stood underneath the bucket, stark naked, and pulled the plug, letting the hot water beat down over her. It was marvelous. But Conor had to fill the bucket seven times because the soap, while fresh and efficient, was made from tallow, which was difficult to wash out of her hair. She had to rinse it several times before it all came out. After that, Conor wrapped her up in a blanket and carried her back to the cottage so her feet wouldn’t get dirty.
The shower had been great, and she felt much better, but it had been a hell of a lot of work. Much to her disappointment, Destry didn’t see herself doing it again anytime soon. Conor promised her that he’d try to find an acceptable bathtub.
As the sixth day after their arrival dawned and Conor went off to find his men again, Destry braided her hair and donned a soft white shift with a pale green robe that went on top of it. It was cinched at the waist, giving her a glorious figure.
After the shower adventure the night before and everything she’d experienced over the past several days, she was coming to see just how rustic of a situation they were in. No cream, mascara, or lotion for her skin. Conor had fashioned toothbrushes with soft green reeds that grew on the banks of the creek, and they brushed their teeth with a mixture Conor had made up of salt, mashed wild mint, and a little bit of wine. It wasn’t great, but it was better than nothing.
Medieval living had been quite interesting.
Destry couldn’t say that she hated it, but she longed for a deep-soak tub and her favorite bath products. Some lip balm would be nice, too, because her lips were constantly dry. Makeup would also be a godsend, but there simply wasn’t anything—and, Conor told her, she didn’t need it anyway. She was a natural beauty.
She’d had a headache the other night and no aspirin, although Conor told her that willow bark powder would serve a similar purpose. All things she was unfamiliar with, but he wasn’t. The problem was that ever since the three warriors appeared, he’d been off with them daily, and she’d been left with the boys. She hadn’t seen much of him.
But she knew something big was building.
She tried to be patient.
The weapons that the men were building were piling up. In fact, on this misty morning, there was more activity than usual. She wandered outside, still close to the cottage, peering to the south and seeing the encampment, which had grown overnight. She couldn’t really tell, but she knew there had to be hundreds of men there at the very least. Hundreds of men who had returned to help Conor regain the kingdom that had been wrested from him.
And then Conor stepped into her line of sight. She could tell by that bright red hair. He was also at least a head taller than any other man around him, his warriors included.
She watched him as he spoke to his men and inspected the spears they’d fashioned. It made Destry smile; technically, she’d only known him a few days. About a week, by her calculations. But already, they’d lived a lifetime together, and evidently, a lifetime before that. She’d heard of soul mates, of course, but she’d never imagined that she actually had one. That lost wedding seemed like a lifetime ago.
Everything seemed like a lifetime ago.
It was heading toward noon, and she knew the boys would be hungry. It seemed that they were always hungry. She’d made pea soup the night before, with carrots and onions and the dried peas she’d found in a sack, so now she headed back into the cottage to warm that up for the boys, who were still out in the barn doing their chores. They had Slane with them, teaching the four-year-old that hard work was good, but every once in a while she could hear him squeal as something didn’t go his way. The child was a squealer, something that probably wouldn’t work well for him in a land of strong and determined men, including his father. He was definitely a mama’s boy, and although Conor hadn’t said anything about that, at some point, he probably would.
Even little boys had to grow up sometime.
By the time noon rolled around, Destry had the pea soup heated up, with bread and boiled eggs on the table. She also took some of the precious beef fat that Padraigan had purchased from the butcher in Ciannachta some time ago, fat used in food preparation, and melted it down. There was an entire sack of turnips, and she cut a few of them thinly before frying them in the beef fat like potato chips. Sprinkled liberally with salt, they weren’t bad at all.
Those went on the table about the time the boys came in, and although they were initially puzzled by the crispy bits of turnip, they soon decided they were quite tasty. Between the pea soup, the eggs, and the turnip chips, they had a significant meal.
Conor appeared in the doorway when the boys were about half finished, inhaling deeply the scent of the meal.
Destry grinned.
“I thought you’d come running when you smelled food,” she said. “Sit down and eat. There’s plenty.”
Conor didn’t have to be told twice. He moved to the table, lifting Slane off a stool so he could sit down. He lifted up one of the still-warm chips.
“What are these?” he asked, taking a bite. “Are these the turnips?”
Destry nodded as she fried more. “Definitely,” she said. “They’re much better when they’re cooked or fried. I wish I had some parmesan cheese. That would make them really delicious.”
“They’re already delicious,” Conor said, taking a handful. “Very clever of you. You’re getting the hang of this.”
Destry’s smile faded as she fished out some brown chips. “I’m trying,” she said. “I still wish I had a bathtub.”
“I’ll find you one, I promise.”
“I know you will,” she said, glancing at him affectionately. “I wasn’t trying to harp on it. But speaking of bathtubs, how’s it going out there? Looks like we had more arrivals overnight.”
Arrivals had nothing to do with bathtubs, but the way she said it made it a funny transition.
“We did,” he said. “We’ve got about six hundred men out there, and that’s not even half of them, I’m told. But there’s no more time to wait, so we’re moving into Ciannachta tonight.”
Destry stopped and looked at him. “What are you going to do?”
Conor had an egg stolen out of his hand by Devlin, and he scowled at the giggling boy before answering. “Move into the city under the cover of darkness and take the castle,” he said. “Auley and Bradaigh know it inside and out, so I’m just along for the ride.”
“Are you going to be fighting?”
“If there’s resistance, I will.”
Destry’s gaze lingered on him for a moment before returning to her turnips. She fell silent after that, removing all of the chips from the beef fat and moving the iron pot off the fire so the fat could cool. She brought the chips over to the table in a bowl, setting them down so the boys could pounce on them. She sat down opposite Conor, but when she reached for an egg, his big hand closed over hers.
“What’s the matter?” he asked softly.
She looked at him. “What makes you think anything is the matter?”
“Because you’ve suddenly gone silent,” he said. “What’s wrong?”
She shook her head. “Nothing,” she said, holding up a chip. “I was just busy cooking these things and didn’t want to burn them, so I was focused. Do you think they’d be better with some salt and rosemary sprinkled on them?”
“I think it would be better if you were honest with me.”
Destry almost denied it again but thought better of it. She lowered her gaze as she spoke.
“I guess I’m just processing what you’re going to do tonight,” she said. “This all seems to be happening so fast. A week ago, you were standing on top of Dowth, teaching your class. Tonight, you’re leading a castle siege. Honestly? It’s terrifying. I’m terrified for you.”
He lifted her hand and kissed her fingers. “I get it,” he said. “But I find it pretty exciting. Don’t be angry with me about that, but I feel like this is what I was born to do. I really do.”
“But it’s so dangerous.”
He toyed with her fingers. “Do you remember the first time you came to my office on the college grounds?”
“I do.”
“Do you remember all of the weapons and stuff I had on the walls?”
“Of course.”
“You asked me if I’d ever used them.”
“I remember.”
He kissed her hand again. “I’m better trained in those weapons than almost any man out in that encampment,” he said. “I’ve dedicated my life to the study of ancient Ireland and all that entails. I never imagined in my entire life that I’d actually have a chance to participate in that history, but that’s exactly what I’m going to do. It’s an incredible honor. I know this is scary for you, but you’re going to have to trust that I’ll be okay. I told you that I don’t think we’ve been brought here just so I can be killed. We have a greater purpose, and I’m going to find out what that purpose is. Okay?”
She finally looked at him, taking a long, deep breath. “Okay,” she said, resigned. “But I’m still scared.”
“I completely get it.”
“What do you want me to do tonight?” she said. “Am I coming with you?”
He shook his head. “No,” he said. “You’re going to stay here with the boys. I’m taking Padraigan with me because I may need her, so you’ll be alone. Bolt the door and stay inside. Don’t go outside for any reason. I’ll leave you with knives and clubs in case you need them, but I want you to remain here, nice and safe. Okay?”
She nodded. “Okay.”
He smiled encouragingly at her and returned to his meal, telling the boys that they’d better not eat the rest of the eggs. He gently teased them, they responded, and, for a moment, Destry just sat there and watched it all, thinking that it seemed completely normal and domestic. She felt as if she’d been in this situation before, countless times, listening to the conversation between the boys and their father.
Her boys.
Her husband.
A husband who was going to war and might not return.
“I have to ask this,” she said after a moment. “I’m not trying to be a buzzkill or whine about it, but I have to ask you something.”
He looked at her. “Ask what?”
“What happens if you don’t come back?”
“I will.”
“But for the sake of argument, what if you don’t?” she said. “What do I do?”
The warm expression on his face faded. “It won’t happen, but if it does, you stay with Padraigan,” he said. “Don’t leave her side, ever. And you raise our sons to be strong, fearless men. They’ve got a hell of a mother, Des. I know you’d make me proud, so I’m not concerned about it. I know you’ll always do what’s best in the end.”
Destry nodded as if his answer satisfied her. But then she burst into quiet tears and fled the cottage. With a heavy sigh, Conor followed.
He found her out back, on the banks of the creek, wiping at her cheeks as she watched the water flow. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly as she wept. He buried his face in the side of her head.
“I know this is a lot,” he whispered. “Believe me, I know. I get that this whole thing is frightening. But this is why we’ve come here, so I can’t avoid it. Padraigan told me that a battle of good against evil is happening now with Ciannachta, that the same wizard who banished us to the nether realm is from a race of evil supernatural beings. Padraigan is from a legendary group of demigods. That’s why she can work magic. Crazy as it sounds, she says there’s some kind of prophecy about a great king rising to help free Ireland from oppressors, and she thinks I’m that king. That’s why we’re here. And I believe with all my heart that this is what I’m meant to do.”
Destry was still sniffling, her arms wrapped around his arms as he held her. “So we’re in a land of witches and wizards and demigods?” she said. “That’s just insane, Conor.”
“We’ve both seen a grain of truth.”
She couldn’t deny it. She continued to sniffle as he held her, and both of them watched the creek flow gently by. Conor hugged her tightly, kissing the side of her head to give her some comfort.
“What to hear something funny?” he asked, trying to change the subject a little.
“What?”
“I found out today that I’m known to the people in the kingdom as Conchúr Dearg .”
“What does that mean?
“Conor the Red,” he said. “But the word dearg —it’s the same pronunciation as Derga, the name I took for myself. Weird coincidence, right?”
Destry chuckled. “I’m coming to think there are no coincidences in our world, Conor,” she said. “Everything we discover like that are just pieces of a larger puzzle, falling into place.”
“That’s exactly what I was thinking.”
“You know what else I was thinking?”
“What?”
“That I’m going to miss you when you leave.”
Conor’s response was to turn her around and kiss her deeply. He didn’t want to talk anymore, because they’d talked the subject into the ground as far as he was concerned. Now, he just wanted to touch her.
Destry gave herself over to him as she always did when he held her, because the pheromones between them were overwhelming—and if there was one thing she had learned about Conor, it was that he liked to touch her.
He also liked to have sex. A lot. Not that she minded, because she loved it as much as he did, but they had done the deed every night and every morning since their arrival, in spite of Destry saying that she felt dirty doing it in front of the boys. They hadn’t yet woken up to their parents’ activities, thankfully, but it was only a matter of time.
One of the things Destry had done in the small room they’d all been sleeping in was move their bed—the one she and Conor slept in—and hang a coverlet up to shield it from where the boys slept. A futile gesture, given the size of the room, but an important one to Destry.
But out here in the yard, with no witnesses, they could do as they pleased.
Lips still fused to hers, he pulled her around the tree that held the makeshift shower, using the crude stall enclosure as protection from any prying eyes. Conor managed to disengage himself from her lips and turn her around, bending her over and putting her hands against the tree. Once she was bent over in front of him, it was a matter of tossing her skirts up, pulling down her panties, and driving into her from behind.
Destry moaned from the pleasure of it, moving her hips back to meet every thrust. Conor definitely had what was called BDE —big dick energy. The man was hugely hung, and Destry was convinced she could never sleep with another man ever again after she’d had Conor. Not that she ever intended to, but it was more the realization that she’d finally found what she’d been looking for. Not simply the physical size of the man, but everything about him. His mind, his humor, his gentleness, but also the way he touched her. He was a sweet, thoughtful lover. He was the complete package, something she’d been searching for her entire life. Everything about him was so familiar.
She knew she could never be without him.
He was her alpha and omega, her first and her last.
He was everything.
Conor hadn’t been going for very long before he climaxed. Destry felt him throbbing within her, and was so highly aroused that his spasms threw her over the brink. She cried out, gripping the tree so tightly that she tore bark off. He leaned over her, his hands on her torso, her breasts, between her legs, everywhere he could touch her, and she let him. He remained embedded in her, simply for the comfort and pleasure of it, but his roaming hands managed to work her into another orgasm, which only made him hard again when he felt her pulsing around him.
Soon, he was making love to her again, moving in and out of her slowly, his fingers playing with her nipples as she bit into her arm to keep from crying out. Another orgasm from Conor, smaller than the one so recent, but pleasurable nonetheless, and another one from Destry, and he finally pulled her up so that she was clutched against his chest. Because he was so tall, he was no longer embedded in her, and his semi-flaccid cock was against the small of her back.
While Destry reveled in the powerful love and physical attraction between them, Conor was having a completely different experience. She couldn’t see the tears in his eyes as he held her, thinking of what Bradaigh and Auley had told him. Goddamn the fact that it had suddenly popped into his head, but it had.
He was thinking about how Destry had been forced to sleep with Geric, a man who was supposed to be his brother but a man he didn’t remember. That faceless bastard had forced Destry to do unspeakable things with a body that belonged only to him. He didn’t blame her; never would he blame her. But the sacrifice she had made for him threatened to tear him apart. There was a very small part of him terrified he might get himself into that situation again, and he knew that Destry would do what she needed to do in order to free him.
That—and only that thought about the entire upcoming situation—scared him to death.
“Conor?” Destry said softly.
His head had been buried in the top of her head. “What?” he asked, muffled.
“What’s wrong?”
He opened his eyes and lifted his head from her hair. “What do you mean?”
“Because you’re breathing unsteadily,” Destry said. “What’s wrong?”
Conor didn’t know what to tell her, but he suddenly realized he’d been on the verge of sobbing. As he released her, he quickly wiped at his wet eyes. “Nothing,” he said. “Just living in the moment. This is everything, Des.”
Destry pushed her skirt down, adjusting the shift that he’d hiked up so he could get at her breasts. “I know,” she said, turning to face him. “It really is. I never knew there was passion like this.”
“Love like this.”
She smiled. “That’s what I meant,” she said. “I’ve known you about a week, and I love you as if I’ve been doing it my entire life.”
“You have.”
She laughed. “I just wish I remembered all of it.”
He glanced at her as he cinched up his breeches, a knowing gleam in his eye. “Even if your mind doesn’t remember, your heart does,” he said. “So does mine. That’s all that matters.”
Destry gently pushed his hands away and finished tying off the breeches for him. She smoothed down his tunic and finished dressing him as he stood there and let her. He loved it when she fussed over him.
When she was satisfied, she looked him over. “You’re pretty damn handsome,” she said. “I thought so the moment I first met you, but you seem to get better with age.”
He grinned. “I’ve got a smoking hot girlfriend, so I have to look good.”
Her smile faded. “Only your girlfriend?”
“Only?”
“Everyone says I’m your wife. You don’t feel like I’m your wife?”
He quickly pulled her into a tight embrace. “I didn’t mean anything by the comment,” he said. “You’re my wife, my girlfriend, my mistress, my heart, and my soul. You’re everything. There hasn’t been a title for what you are to me, Des.”
“Queen,” she whispered.
He laughed, hugging her. “That you are, sweetheart,” he said. “You are my queen in every sense of the word. I’ll never call you anything else but queen, ever again. I promise.”
She looked up at him, smiling. “That’s better,” she said. Then she pulled away and took his hand. “Let’s find the boys. You need to spend some time with them before you go.”
He squeezed her hand as they began heading back toward the cottage. “Definitely,” he said. “In fact, I’ve been thinking about them.”
“The boys?”
“My family in general,” he said. “You know that I changed my surname to Da Derga, but that was before I knew what my real legacy was.”
Destry glanced at him. “You mean Conor the Red?”
He nodded. “Right,” he said. “Most kings were given a nickname of sorts, to differentiate them from others with the same name. The European kings did the same thing—Charles the Bold, Charles the Fat, and so on. But for the Irish, the surname was really the big deal. That really differentiated your branch of the family from someone else’s.”
“So you don’t like Da Derga anymore?”
“You really want to go by Destry Da Derga for the rest of your life?”
She started laughing. “I don’t care,” she said. “I’ll go by whatever you decide. Maybe the Red’s Wife?”
He chuckled. “Doesn’t have a good ring to it,” he said. “I was going to say that I’ve learned a lot over the past few days, hanging out with the soldiers. Not only did I learn I’d once been called Conor the Red, but because I came back from the nether realm, they’re starting to call me an rohan —it’s a name that basically means spirit or spiritual.”
“Rohan,” Destry repeated. “Isn’t that from the Lord of the Rings? Like, the riders of Rohan?”
He nodded. “It is,” he said. “But Tolkien was a philologist.”
“What in the hell is that?”
“A language expert,” Conor said. “He invented the Elvish language in the book and called it Quenya , but more to the point, he used parts of other languages for Middle Earth. Rohan was one—the word appears in other languages and has a few different meanings. For Gaelic, the proper name Rohan, for example, if we were to name a child that, means spirit or spiritual. That’s what the men have taken to calling me.”
“It’s a nice name.”
“I want to take it for my surname,” Conor said. “Da Derga was for the man who didn’t know he had a role in the Irish mythological cycle. But now that I know, Rohan is more fitting. For our children, Mac Rohan, meaning son of Rohan, will define our family for centuries to come. Maybe that name is my legacy in the end.”
Destry smiled. “I like it,” she said. “Destry Rohan sounds better than Destry Da Derga.”
“I think so, too.”
They came around the side of the cottage in time to see the boys in the corral with the little calf again. They’d finished their chores and were goofing off, but once they saw Conor and Destry, they ran toward them, with Slane bringing up the rear.
“Dada!” Devlin yelled as they came close. “If Mattock is to get another pony, may I have a pony too?”
Conor lifted his eyebrows thoughtfully, glancing at Destry, who was fighting off a smile as she picked up Slane. Boys and their toys, from century to century, didn’t change much.
“Who said Mattock was getting a pony?” Conor asked.
Devlin pointed at Mattock, whose face fell with disappointment. “I’m not getting a pony, Dada?” he asked sadly. “Deneb is gone. He was my only friend. I thought… I had hoped…”
Conor stopped the boy by putting a hand on his shoulder. “Of course you will get a pony,” he said, looking at Devlin. “And you. You will be men soon, and all men should have a horse. Right?”
Mattock and Devlin nodded eagerly. Conor smiled at the boys who looked so much like him and Destry, something that still surprised him. He should have been used to it, but he just wasn’t. It only served to underscore that this entire situation they found themselves in was real.
Very real.
That brought about another thought.
“Then we’ll talk about ponies when I return,” he said. “But for now, I have a very important job for you both. Are you listening?”
Again, the boys nodded, and he continued.
“I am going to Ciannachta with the army tonight,” he said. “I am not sure how long I’ll be gone, but when I am away, you will be in charge of your mother’s safety. That means you remain in the cottage. That means you don’t let anyone in, and you don’t go out except to feed the animals. But you go right back in and lock the door. If you have to, you bring the cow and calf inside the cottage to keep them safe, because another one of those fiacla nathair may come back, and I won’t be here to fight it off. Do you understand me so far?”
The boys had grown serious because he had. “We will protect mother and Slane,” Mattock said. “They will be safe.”
“Good,” Conor said. “But now that I think of it, I think you need to bring everything inside the cottage to keep it safe—the chickens, the cows, everything. There’s the small room that Padraigan sleeps in, and they can all go in there. I know it’s going to smell, but I just don’t think it’ll be safe leaving them out at night if I’m not around, so I think you need to go about preparing that room for them. Put hay in there. Make a place for the chickens to go, and then put them in there. Move firewood and grass and everything you need for the animals inside so you don’t have to go out while I’m gone.”
Destry, with Slane on her hip, had been listening. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”
Conor shrugged. “No more than a couple of days, I think,” he said. “This is temporary, but I think it’s necessary just to be safe.”
Destry felt better knowing that he didn’t plan to be away very long. Somehow, what he was doing didn’t seem so dangerous if it was just a day or two, and that brought her a false illusion of comfort. She was looking for details like that to cling to.
“But what about going to the bathroom?” she asked. “If we have to urinate, we have to come out to the outhouse.”
“That should be okay during the daytime,” he said. “But travel in twos—one watching out for the other. Mattock, I will leave swords and clubs, so you will be armed. You can come out here during the day to relieve yourselves, but at night, you’re going to have to use a pot. Nobody goes outside at night, at least until I get back.”
Everyone nodded solemnly because Conor’s tone suggested this was a command and not simply a plea for cooperation. When he looked at everyone to make sure they understood, he pointed toward the corral.
“Go,” he said. “And hurry, because the army is leaving soon. I want you to be done before I go.”
Mattock and Devlin took off at a run while Slane, now sleepy, laid his head on Destry’s shoulder. Conor turned to the pair, smiling at Slane and putting a gentle hand on the boy’s head.
“Put him down for a nap,” he said. “I need you with me. We have to make this place rock solid before I leave.”
Destry looked at him curiously. “What do you want me to do?”
“Gather water, mostly,” he said. “If you are going to be bottled up in that cottage, you’re going to need water. You’ll need firewood. And I want to take a look at the door to make sure the bolt is solid. I’d like to secure the windows better than they are, too.”
Destry turned for the cottage, carrying Slane, as Conor headed off to gather whatever he needed to gather. By the time she’d put Slane down for a nap, Conor had returned with a few men, and they were going over the three windows in the cottage—one in each of the rooms—and the front door.
Padraigan, who had been with the men, returned also and explained that the cottage had already been built when she took up residence. Whoever had lived there had basically left everything behind, which explained why there was furniture and beds and even dried food. The cottage windows had shutters that were shut at night, but Conor wanted them, and the door, reinforced. As Destry went to find enough buckets and things to collect water, Conor and his men went to work on the doors and windows.
The hammering and work went on most of the afternoon. Everyone had their tasks, and they completed them to the best of their ability. Mattock and Devlin moved the cow and calf into the small chamber that Padraigan had been using, making sure to secure the animals and give them lots of grass and water. The chickens went into the same room, wandering around and staying clear of the cow and her calf. It was hilarious watching the boys, determined to please their father, chase the chickens all over the place before finally catching them.
The afternoon flew by.
As sunset approached, Conor and the men had succeeded in reinforcing the door and the shutters. They were quite sturdy now, and as the sun began to go down, the encampment began to buzz with activity. They were getting ready to head out, and Conor was expected to join them, so he herded everyone into the cottage and stood at the door as if to block them from trying to get out again.
He pulled Destry to him. “I’m told the castle is about ten miles to the east,” he said. “It’ll take us a few hours to get there, is my guess, but we need to move slowly and carefully. Bradaigh and Auley have already spoken about how they plan to take the castle.”
“How?” Destry asked.
A twinkle came to his eye. “You don’t remember this, but when you were fleeing the castle after Geric invaded, you took the boys and fled through the drainage system,” he said. “That’s how Bradaigh and Auley plan to get in—the same way you got out.”
Destry was trying very hard to be calm and confident about the whole thing. “Then no big fights right off the bat?” she said. “Like, no storming the citadel or anything?”
Conor shook his head. “No,” he said. “We’ll send men in through the drainage pipes, and they’ll get to the gate and open it for the rest of us. There’s supposed to be very few men guarding it, which is why we needed to move so quickly. My guess is that we’ll take it with very little bloodshed if that’s the case. So let’s hope it’s still the case.”
“Let’s hope.”
The noise from the encampment was growing as men prepared to move out. They could both hear it. Conor looked at Destry as if he wanted to say something meaningful and poignant, but she could see he was having a difficult time. Maybe it was because he thought she was having such a hard time, so she knew she had to be tough. She didn’t want him to worry about her when he needed to focus on himself and whatever he needed to do ahead.
Smiling, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. “Go on,” she said. “We’ll be fine. But if you get back here in a couple of days and I’m climbing the walls because of too much cow shit and restless kids, you’ll just have to deal with it.”
He started laughing. “I will apologize to you when I see you for keeping you cooped up with that mob.”
“You’d better,” she said, grinning. “Now, go. I’ll be fine. But you take care of yourself, Conor the Red. You have a family who loves you and needs you back.”
He smiled, leaning forward to kiss her again. “A wife I love madly,” he murmured. “I’ll be back.”
“I know.”
With that, he headed off toward the encampment. Destry smiled bravely, watching him go, even waving to him when he turned around to look at her. But once he was through the foliage and into the encampment, he disappeared, and she closed the door, bolting it.
Then, and only then, did she shed tears for his safety.
Come back to me, my love.
She had no idea what she would do if he didn’t.