His thoughts again went hollow. His mouth was dry with the words he could not speak. But in his mind, he knew…
To send a vessel to its death made true their flesh. If one could be commanded and judged as man, then the favor they were afforded was nothing but a fragile illusion.
Chapter eighteen
The Cage
Grass swayed beneath the druid’s feet. The wind nipped his skin, bare beneath an endless black sky. There was no moon, but the light of a thousand stars led him higher up the hillside. His mind was plagued with uncertain longing for what awaited him at the top.
Further and further he pressed. His fingers dug into the dirt as the land jut upwards in front of him, till he was crawling over the crest of the sea-beaten cliff. And as he reached the pinnacle, he stood and gazed out at the tide. There, beneath the churning storm, faint shapes rose across the horizon. He could only just make out white sails.
Pale ships, like ghosts at the edge of the world.
The wind beat harder. The cold cut deeper. And with a gasp, the druid awoke, eyes snapping open to the morning.
Sweat beaded his chilled skin. What had he seen?He could only make out fragments; broken pieces of a strange mosaic. For years, his dreams had teased him. Now they were the teeth at his throat. Never had they felt more pressing… morereal.
The druid held up quivering fingers.
What did it all mean?
The door was thrust open, and the chambermaid swept in. “Up ye!” she said, tossing clean linens on the table. Then she was at his bedside, pulling back the blankets. “Up! Ye come up now!”
“Halla!” He grasped her hands, forcing her to still. She did not meet his gaze. “Are you well?” he asked, checking her wrists for bruising. There was a faint mark where the guard had grabbed her, and he ran his fingers gingerly over it. He hadn’t seen Halla since the chaos of the prior night, but his woes had not prevented him from worrying. If only he had his satchel, he could make her something for the pain.
“No one hurt you, did they?”
The old woman shook her head.
Then Hirí had kept her word, and now he would have to endure the discomfort of knowing he owed her something.
“Dinnae fash over me, íridh. Best to forget that troublesome thing. It was a wrong turn for both of us.”
He lowered his gaze. “I never should have agreed. Forgive me.”
“I only thought it would be best for ye,” she said, patting his leg. “A druid belongs on their way. But here may well be right where ye need be. ’N it is good news for ye! Marrying the Vaich, ye’ll be free to go where ye please!”
He knew that was furthest from the truth.
“Ah!” She gasped. “’N that’s why we must hurry! Ye’ve been called before Himself.”
Seeing the Vaich now was the last thing he wanted. His head ached at the thought. His mind still swam with broken images, and concentrating harder only made it hurt worse.
The druid slid his legs over the side of the bed, but that proved too sluggish for the old maid. She pulled him up, unsteadying him. Her forehead creased as she noted the sweat on his brow, and cupped his face with thick hands. “Not the heat again, is it?”
“No—” He bit his tongue. He had nearly spoken it, but the words caught in his throat.
She eyed him suspiciously. “Yearea wee thing… If yer not eating well, it’ll be the ill for ye! Come ’n have yer biscuits!” Her hand pressed to the small of his back, propelling him forwards. He stumbled to the chair aside the breakfast table and had no sooner sunk into it before she was grabbing up his legs and beginning to scrub.
“What did I tell ye? Ye’ve not been minding yer wear! Yer trouble for me, lil’un.”
He said nothing in defense, only watched her with a mouthful of sweet roll. She reached up, snatching it from his hand and tossed it back on its platter.
“Up!”
She tugged his nightgown off, letting it land haphazardly, and wiped at him with a scented rag.
The druid wondered why it should matter what he looked or smelled like. The Vaich seemed resolute in his decision to marry him. That washardly a question of sentiment. But then, he considered it might reflect badly on Halla if he was presented in a poorly state, and so he allowed the maid to push and pull at him, even as his head spun.
