Page 66 of Celtic Love and Legends (Lords of Eire)

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Six weeks later

M attock was having a difficult time staying on his new pony.

It was a clear day at Cashel Cian, with gulls crying overhead and a steady sea breeze. The smell of salt was heavy in the air. Conor, Destry, Bradaigh, and Auley were in the enormous bailey of the cashel, watching Mattock and Devlin ride the new ponies that Auley had brought for them. Mattock’s was white and black, while Devlin’s was as red as his father’s hair. That pony’s name was Ghrian, which basically meant sunny , while Mattock’s horse was named Fionn, pronounced Finn, after a great mythical warrior.

Fionn was giving his new owner quite a time.

“Thank God for Auley and Bradaigh,” Conor muttered to Destry, watching the warriors as they gave the boys helpful advice. “I have no idea how to teach them about riding a horse.”

Destry snorted. “I know, you sorry cowboy.”

“I’d get them both killed.”

“Let the Irish knights do what they do best, eh?”

Conor couldn’t disagree. He stood back and pretended he knew everything that Bradaigh and Auley were teaching his boys. He pretended he knew everything about everything, and in a sense, he really did. There was no one in the world in this period in history who was as highly educated as Conor was, so he really did know everything about everything.

Except riding horses. That was where he was admittedly faulty.

“When I took the boys into the city yesterday, we visited the avenue of the smithies where Auley used to work,” he said. “The commerce seems to be picking up, which is a good sign.”

“Anything interesting happening on the smithy street?” Destry asked.

“Mattock saw a saddle there he was in love with.”

“A saddle with a blacksmith?”

“Right.”

“Doesn’t the tanner make saddles?”

“Usually, but the smithy was putting iron stirrups on it. It was a gorgeous leather good.”

“And Mattock begged for it?”

“He promised he would work in the stables the rest of his life if I would buy it for him.”

Destry chuckled. “And you’re thinking about it?”

Conor shrugged. “Maybe,” he said. “He’s convinced he can ride better with it.”

“What did you tell him?”

“That I would think about it.”

Destry continued chuckling. Conor was a sucker for his boys, so she suspected that if he hadn’t bought the saddle already, he would soon. Also, his scientist’s brain had been going crazy with all of the Medieval processes and methods the city presented to him. Everything he’d ever learned in an academic setting, now with a practical application. He was seeing it as it happened.

A college professor’s dream.

But it was more than that.

Six weeks after their arrival through the portal at Dowth, Conor could hardly remember the life “before.” The life where he taught students and studied ancient history, where he’d changed his surname to Da Derga, much to the chagrin of his father. The life Destry wasn’t a part of. He’d never felt particularly lonely, but he had felt solitary. Like something was missing.

Now, he knew what it was.

The woman laughing at his soft side had come to mean more to him than anything in the universe. She was sexy as hell, beautiful, brilliant, and determined. She was also funny, and had him laughing constantly. She lit him up in so many ways that it was difficult to put his finger on one thing in particular that made him love her. It was everything. Everything about her was endearing to him, and he was her slave. No doubt about it. She snapped her fingers, and he jumped as high as she wanted him to.

The past six weeks had been an indoctrination to the life he’d always wanted.

Deep down, he’d been meant for nothing else.

The siege of Cashel Cian those weeks ago had been an astonishingly easy thing. On that night of nights, Conor and his six hundred men had quietly entered the village while Auley and Bradaigh took ten young men, skinny and wiry, and ordered them into the drainage pipes beneath the cashel. They’d come out the other side, into the bailey and stable area, and gone right to the gates without any resistance at all.

By the time those guarding the castle realized what had happened, Conor and his men were inside, and they gathered everyone in the bailey. Conor thought he’d have to convince them to join him or die, but once they saw Conor, there were tears and cheers. Their high king had returned, and Conor had an instant army of over a thousand men, including the ones he’d brought with him.

It had been as simple as that.

Once they were inside and in command, word began to spread that the high king had returned, and the villagers turned out in droves to see him. Conor had stood at the gatehouse, watching the crowds below, the crying and joyful shouting, realizing what his return meant to these people. Padraigan had talked about a darkness settling over the land under Geric’s rule, and how the people were suffering, but now he was seeing the proof of it.

His people were thrilled to have him back.

He was thrilled to be back.

His first order of business after he secured the castle had been to return for Destry and the boys, and he did so within two days. He brought her, the children, the calf and cow, and the chickens and transported them all to Cashel Cian. Destry’s first view of a Medieval city, the sights and smells, had been a bit overwhelming, and once they reached the castle, a lady by the name of Fallon had greeted her with tears.

As it turned out, Fallon used to be Etain’s lady-in-waiting. The boys knew her and were excited to see her, but Destry didn’t know the woman from Adam. Still, she was very kind and sweet, and given that the boys knew her and loved her, Destry accepted her.

Sort of. She’d never had a lady-in-waiting before, and Fallon’s role was as an advisor and confidante, and even a servant. Destry didn’t have to lift a finger when Fallon was around, which was both odd and slightly cool.

Life, from that point, grew more fascinating.

So much had happened over the past six weeks, not the least of which were public programs that Destry had started. In the wake of Geric’s rule and the fact that he stole so much from his own villagers, or allowed his mercenaries to, some people were literally starving. Very quickly, Destry realized that, and she set up a rudimentary soup kitchen.

That took care of the starving, but both she and Conor knew they had to get the stalled economic engine of the village moving so people could feed themselves. Conor discovered there wasn’t much left in the cashel’s treasury, so he was careful with what they had. He fronted farmers money for seed, and he also loaned money to bakers and merchants for things like grain and stock, and whatever else they needed to start doing business again.

Slowly, the wheels of the engine began to turn.

Word of Conor’s return had spread to the outskirts, and those who had fled when Geric took the throne now began to come back. There was an entire street that had silversmiths and metalworkers, separate from the smithies, and that had dwindled to two or three people struggling to do business. The Northmen had stolen anything of value from these men, so it was difficult to do business with precious metals when one didn’t have anything to sell. Conor helped them by giving them money to purchase what they needed. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to get started.

Three weeks after Conor’s return, business as usual was beginning to happen. Six weeks later, things were ramping up nicely, and they were already starting to repay the loans.

Conor couldn’t have been more pleased.

Prosperity, and peace, were slowly returning to Ciannachta.

And that meant two new ponies for Mattock and Devlin. Slane had no interest in horses, but he did have a fascination with carts and wagons, so much so that Conor made a little wagon for him to play with.

It also meant Destry was settling into her new life, or at least becoming accustomed to it, but she wasn’t nearly as comfortable with it as Conor was. In fact, for her it had been a curious and sometimes difficult six weeks.

Conor had promised her once that he’d make sure she had acceptable toiletries because of the things he’d learned to make, and he’d kept that promise for the most part. He worked very hard at making sure she had everything she could possibly want for her lips and skin. He found an apothecary in town, a man who had ingredients from all over the known world—and a man that Destry became quite familiar with. He had balms to soothe the lips and skin made from beeswax and butter, along with other oils he wouldn’t divulge because they were some proprietary secret. Conor thought he used almond oil or even animal fat in some of his pomades—but whatever he used, Destry had balm for her lips and oil for her skin that soaked in and made it quite soft. It wasn’t lotion, but it worked the same way. Better, in some cases.

Face cream or moisturizer was pretty much the same thing. Whatever she put on her body, she put on her face, and her skin was always dewy and soft because of it. Auley, being a smithy, fashioned a razor for her so she could shave her legs and armpits, but she’d cut herself a couple of times before she got the hang of a straight razor. Soap came from the same apothecary, castile-type soap that came from Spain and was made with olive oil. It was great on her hair and, with an ale rinse, had transformed it into something soft and wonderful. Auley had even made her a curling iron, something she could put in the fire and heat up, so although she didn’t have all of the modern conveniences and hair products, she had enough that worked for her.

Slowly but surely, life for Destry was balancing out.

Except for one thing.

She was pregnant.

Honestly, she wasn’t surprised. She and Conor had sex all the time—and in any place of convenience—and the fact that her birth control pills hadn’t come with her when she was thrust into Medieval Ireland really should have made her more careful. But she’d met a man she was deeply in love with, and it was clear she’d had his children before, even if she didn’t remember, so making love to Conor without protection was the most natural thing in the world. She’d done it freely and happily and lustily.

And his seed had taken root, as they say.

But he didn’t know yet. In fact, Destry was only coming to figure it out herself because she hadn’t had a period since arriving in Ireland. Her breasts were swelling and tender, and her belly below her navel seemed to be firm to the touch. She wasn’t showing at all, but the symptoms were there.

As a nurse, she was clinical about it, but as a pregnant woman soon to give birth in Medieval times, she was scared to death. She knew what could go wrong. But, as Conor told her the night he laid siege to Cashel Cian, he didn’t think they’d been brought back to Ciannachta only to die. She hoped that also pertained to giving birth.

At some point, she was going to have to tell him.

Maybe a day like this was perfect for it. Things were calm, and there were no real worries at the moment. No business to conduct. Conor was out in the middle of the boys as they rode their ponies in a circle, standing next to Bradaigh as he told Devlin to keep his heels down in the stirrups. Destry was still standing outside of the circling ponies, watching the men as they involved themselves with two boys on two ponies. Mattock was much better at riding than Devlin was, but Devlin was trying his hardest to keep up.

Destry smiled as she watched Devlin, the middle boy who was so eager to please. She had a bit of a soft spot for the boy who sometimes referred to himself in the third person as “your Devlin.” As she watched him try very hard to get his pony to turn around, Conor broke away from Bradaigh and headed back in her direction.

“Something has occurred to me,” he said as he approached. “I think I’m going to have a carriage built for you. You need to have something comfortable to travel in.”

Destry looked at him in surprise. “Travel where?” she said. “Are we going somewhere?”

Conor shook his head. “Not now,” he said. “But there may be times when we do. Do you really want to ride a horse everywhere? You’re a queen, Des. A queen should have queenly transportation.”

She grinned. “I haven’t really thought about it,” she said. “I like riding horses, but if we go someplace far, I don’t know if I could sit in the saddle for twelve hours.”

“Exactly,” he said. “I’ll have a carriage made with a couple of benches that we can put cushions on. Or maybe something that kind of slopes back so you’ll be more comfortable when you ride. Maybe the boys can join you in it. It’ll probably be safer for them.”

No time like the present, Destry thought. “When you make that carriage, you’d better have them put a baby bed in it.”

He looked at her, brow furrowed. “What for?” he said. “Slane is too big to be in a baby bed. In fact, I want to talk to you about him now that you’ve brought it up. I think he’s a little too attached to you. Not that he shouldn’t be, because you are his mother and he is young, but maybe we need to start having him spend more time with his brothers and less with you. Padraigan says he’s going to be five years old next month. He’s no longer a baby, Des.”

Destry looked at him as if he was the densest man on the planet. “That’s not what I meant, you big dummy,” she said. “I meant we’re going to have a baby. You didn’t get that clue at all.”

Conor’s eyes widened. Then his jaw dropped. He started to speak, but he ended up choking, coughing furiously as he went to Destry and pulled her into his arms. She kept laughing as he hugged her and tried to recover.

“Oh my God,” he said, sputtering. “Are you serious?”

“I wouldn’t joke about something like this.”

He pulled back to look at her, absolutely stunned. “I didn’t mean that,” he said. “I just meant… Hell, I don’t know what I meant. It was stupid of me to say it. I just… Are you sure ?”

She was enjoying his shock. “All of my nurse training leads me to believe I am,” she said. “Think about it, Conor—have we ever used birth control? And we screw like rabbits, not to put it too crudely. But we do. All the time. Something was bound to happen.”

He just stared at her in wonder. Then, as she watched, his eyes began to fill with tears. “Oh, fuck,” he said, blinking. “A baby. You’re really going to have a baby.”

Destry laughed softly and put her arms around him. “That’s a good thing, right?” she said. “Our first baby together. Or, at least, the first one we remember. It’ll be fine. I feel good. Everything will be fine, I promise.”

He hugged her so tightly that he was squeezing the breath from her. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I’m just overwhelmed. I never thought I’d ever have a child with a woman I love so much. I mean, I know the boys are ours, but we don’t remember them being born. At least, not the experience of it. But this… you said it. This is the first baby I’ll remember. And it’s with you. It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Destry had her arms around his neck, her hands on the back of his head. “Good,” she said. “You’re happy. I wasn’t sure for a moment if you were or not.”

“I am,” he said, pulling back to look her in the eye. “So happy. You can’t even imagine how happy.”

“Me too,” she said. “But I will admit I’m a little leery of giving birth in Medieval times. No hospital, no modern medicine. We need to find the best midwife in Ireland.”

“We will,” he said firmly. “I’ll talk to Padraigan. She knows everything about everything. You didn’t tell her, did you?”

Destry shook her head. “This was your news and no one else’s,” she said. “I wasn’t going to tell anyone before I told you.”

He was starting to beam. “Thank you,” he said. Then he kissed her sweetly. “I just want a healthy wife and a healthy baby. I don’t care about anything else.”

“We’ll be fine, both of us.”

He kissed her again. Then he started giggling. Coming from a man his size, it was hilariously misplaced. But then someone called for him, and he was forced to let her go as Auley motioned to him from the gatehouse. He headed off, but not before whispering, “I love you,” to her.

Heart full of joy, Destry watched him go.

“You told him, did you?”

Destry turned to see Padraigan standing next to her. She cocked her head curiously. “Told him what?”

“About the child you carry.”

Destry sighed and shook her head in resignation. “I should have known that you would already know,” she said. “ How did you know?”

Padraigan smiled. “Because you have a look about you that speaks of new life,” she said. “It is the look of love, my lady. You love your husband so much that you are honored to bear his children. It gives you joy.”

Destry thought it was a sweet way of putting it. “I suppose it does,” she said. “But it’s one of the things I don’t remember. This will be my first child, at least the one I can recall. My training—before I came here—was in nursing. In healing. Giving birth is a wonderful yet dangerous thing, and I want to make sure the baby and I both survive it.”

“Of course you do,” Padraigan said. “And you shall. This daughter will survive.”

Destry’s hand instinctively went to her belly. “How do you know it is a girl?”

“Because she told me.”

Destry couldn’t help but chuckle. Sometimes Padraigan’s mysticism was a little far out, but she hadn’t been wrong yet. It was both unsettling and amazing.

“Oh?” Destry said. “What else did she tell you?”

“Her name is Anahera.”

Destry’s eyebrows lifted. “Anahera?” she said. Then she shrugged. “I like it. Very pretty.”

“She is excited to meet you.”

Destry smiled, hand on her belly. “I think she calls for a celebration,” she said. “Let me head over to the kitchens and see what the cooks have for a party.”

“This is cause for a celebration indeed.”

As Destry headed off toward the kitchens of Cian, Padraigan watched her go. Then she looked to the sky, seeing a large raven riding the drafts overhead. She watched it for a moment before lifting her hand, just a little. The bird abruptly went sideways, then pushed across the sky and back out to sea, as if a strong breeze had caught it and swept it away.

But Padraigan knew differently, because the peace around them was a false peace.

She knew it wouldn’t last.

Something dark was coming.