“I may not be the smartest of men,” Keegan’s baritone voice filled with good humor roused Fiona from sleep, “But it looks to me like you took advantage of being ill.” He followed the observation with a laugh.
Ronan frowned as Fiona stirred, then sat straight up. He’d wanted her to sleep as much as possible before they headed out. He vaguely remembered her being awake during the night, at his side and tending to him.
“You are right, Yore. You are not the smartest of men.” Ronan continued to adjust his pack on Sorcha’s back, being careful not to move his arm too much. He’d awakened to Ula pouring her concoction down his throat and the serpentine sleeping soundly against him. He’d tired to push the healer away but she forced him drink every drop of the broth. It had obviously worked because half an hour later, he felt much stronger and revived.
“He is a King’s Guard now. He can do anything he wishes.” Arien came to Ronan’s defense and the blacksmith smiled. The boy suffered only a reddened bruise across his chest. He hadn’t even complained of it.
“And I couldn’t have done much anyway in the state I was in. I can barely remember anything that happened.” Ronan glanced at Fiona. Pity. She looked breathtaking as she rose from his blankets.
“You were feverish and talking nonsense most of the time.” Fiona rose to her feet and collected the blankets. She reached for her sword and sheath and slipped them across her back before handing the blankets to Ronan.
“No trouble from the centaur Bryan then?” Ronan made himself look away from Fiona and rested his eyes on Keegan.
“None.” The horseman shook his head. “Perhaps he hasn’t even noticed the sword he carries is a fake. Or he could have given up.”
“I don’t want to take any chances.” Ronan tucked the blankets beneath his pack on Sorcha’s back and then turned to wave to Ula. “Come, take a walk with me. I wish to speak with you privately.” The healer looked surprised at his request. She hurried forward to do as he wished, glancing back at the others.
Ronan walked beside her deeper into the trees, away from the campsite. Surrounded by the foliage and growth, the atmosphere was quiet except for the rustling their footsteps made beneath them. He’d discovered he liked the quiet of trees and nature. It helped him to think more clearly, to reason without interruption.
“I deserve an explanation. I must know those who travel with me for the sake of keeping the sword safe. I thought I knew who you were until yesterday.” His steps halted and he looked at her black eyes. “Start talking.”
Ula looked down at the moss-covered ground, breaking their eye contact. “I do not know where to start.” Her shoulders slumped as if she suddenly understood why Ronan had called her away from the others.
“Let me help you. Begin with how it is that you managed to appear a young maid when you were fighting those Sledgers.” Ronan crossed his arms.
“That is a bit more complicated than I have time for.” Ula shook her head. Ronan stared at her for moment.
“Then what kind of healer can create, carry, and throw magic from the palm of her hand?” Ronan let no softness find his expression or voice.
“I’m not a healer,” Ula said after a moment of hesitation. “But I do have healing capabilities.”
“Then what are you?” Ronan demanded. He was not impressed with her vague answer. He wanted an explanation, not an answer that would smooth things over. That’s what she had been doing all along. He felt foolish for allowing her behavior. Now, he would get the truth from her.
“I am a sorceress.” Ula winced when his breath sucked in through his teeth. “That is precisely why I didn’t tell you before. It does nothing but strike fear in the hearts of those I try to help.”
“And explains why you can use dark magic so easily,” Ronan added, feeling a bit guilty for his reaction. He also felt stupid for not guessing the truth before.
“Yes.” She sighed. “I mean you no harm, Ronan Culley. I only want…”
Ronan held up a hand for her silence before dropping it back to his arm. “You’ve lied to me. You’ve withheld information that I should have known from the beginning about the sword. Give me one reason I should allow you to continue to Merisgale with me. Why shouldn’t I doubt you now?”
Ula’s black eyes welled, surprising Ronan. “You speak the truth of me. I did not lie when I told you I had powers to know where I’m needed. Things are not as they should be. Someone is not who they seem.”
“It would appear that someone is you,” Ronan said pointedly. But some of his edge left him. A sorceress was powerful but rarely did you find one that worked their magic for evil purposes.
“We all have secrets. Mine are not those that bring danger to you or your journey.” She clasped her hand together. “I have always used my powers to protect.”
Ronan studied her for several minutes. He recalled the times she’d summoned the darkness. It had been times when someone was in danger. And she’d only used her sorcery when she fought the Sledgers. He wanted desperately to believe her, to believe that he’d judged her correctly.
“I am a blacksmith. I know very little of magic and sorcery. Tell me of the sword now.” Ronan leaned against the rough bark of a tree.
Ula nodded. “The white metal of the sword can only be used to stop the dark forces by a wizard. It is crafted into a weapon by a blacksmith who has shown great skill, skill that others have taken notice of. If the sword falls to the dark forces, Sleagan will be given rule of Meris.”
“Can’t another sword be made if that happens?” Ronan interrupted.
“Yes, but it has to be made before the white metal turns yellow. Once the metal of Hadenla is yellow no other sword can be made. Only when the power is held by someone pure, does the metal remain white.”
Ronan nodded that he understood. “If the sword falls into Sleagan’s hands and the metal of Hadenla turns yellow is there no hope of ever taking the power back from the dark forces?”
“It happened once before. Long before any of us were born. Sleagan got the sword and kept it for a very long time. Then a wizard called Robusk saved us.”
“Robusk,” Ronan repeated. There wasn’t a living thing that didn’t know the name of the wizard of the high council. He was said to be the most wise of all wizards and the strongest that had ever come out of the monastery. Of course, Thestian was said to be just as gifted.
“He destroyed Sleagan and took the sword back,” Ula nodded.
“But Sleagan lives,” Ronan argued. “If he did not, there would be no threat to the sword.”
Ula shook her head and explained, “All those who reign over the dark forces are called Sleagan. It is a title, passed on if one is killed. Most do not know that.”
“And what if the sword is given to someone who does not intend to use it?” Ronan was thinking of Bryan. “Would it end the battle between wizards and the dark forces?”
Ula smiled knowingly, as if she knew his thoughts. “The centaur’s intentions are good and pure. But one cannot hold the sword for long without having the urge to use it. And only a wizard can use the power of the sword correctly. It is why nine guards are dispatched to receive the sword. On their journey back, they hand the sword off to one another so that none of them grow attached to it.”
“Are you saying the centaur would use the sword?”
“Yes.”
“And if he did so, being no wizard, he would perish.” Ronan was beginning to understand.
“Or worse. He could be sent to join the dark forces, thus giving control to Sleagan,” Ula added.
“Why didn’t Thestian send more than one warrior to help me?” Ronan frowned.
“I don’t know.” Ula shook her head.
Ronan stood still, contemplating all she’d told him. It was a lot to process. But one thing he understood above all. This was a more important journey than just delivering a weapon.
“Why did Fiona attack you?” Ronan looked up when she sighed heavily.
“When she was a child, her grandmother was put into the same situation you find yourself in today. She took up the responsibility of delivering the sword. I’d known her for some time. And I knew the moment the dark forces took her over, felt it deep within me.” Ula’s eyes filled with sadness and her gaze dropped to the ground. “I killed her. Unfortunately she made a choice and I was made to do it right in front of Fiona. She was just a girl.”
Ula shook her head. “But it made her stronger. That child took up the sword and carried it all the way to Merisgale alone.” The woman shrugged. “She has hated me these many years and I kept away from her.”
“Because you are afraid of her?”
“No. I kept away because it would cause her pain and because of the River Blanch. When I returned home, Theora’s death is what the river haunted me with. It was the same when I crossed again with you.” Ula’s hands shook. “It is the only time in my life that I ever considered allowing the dark forces to have the sword. Theora was my friend and I know what I did had to be done but it has never allowed me peace.”
Ronan regarded her expression closely, suddenly feeling sorry for her. She was like him. She lived with a death that rode guilt into her with every breath she took. He knew how that felt.
“You may continue with me, Ula,” Ronan finally said. “This is the second time you’ve made me doubt you. Do not do it again.”
“I will not. I have laid it all before you,” Ula vowed.
“All except why I saw you as a beautiful young woman yesterday,” he amended and she smiled. “But I shall allow you that one secret. As you say, we all have ours to keep.”
“You have no secrets.” Ula tilted her head. “Your eyes give away everything about you.”
“Do they?” Ronan allowed himself to smile.
“It is why the centaur shows you respect even though you stand in the way of the sword.” Ula nodded in the direction of the camp. “And why they follow you and do as you say.”
“The boy follows me because he sees me as a father figure. I accept that. Keegan comes with us out of fear that I will keep his horses. And Fiona is here because she was sent by the wizard Thestian,” Ronan corrected.
“You are not a very bright blacksmith are you?” Ula’s lips curled. “You make excuses rather than accept that people care for you, or respect you. Even a sniveling thief looked at you with admiration.”
Ronan shifted. “Because he thought I would kill him if he did not.”
Ula waved a finger in the air. “He was afraid of Keegan Yore. He was not afraid of you.” She smirked then. “And Fiona may be here to make certain that sword goes to Merisgale but when she did not know who you were, she was still drawn to you.”
“You knew about that?” Ronan felt slightly embarrassed.
“Keegan runs his mouth more than usual when he’s been drinking,” Ula told him as she stepped forward. “Let me look at your arm. The broth I gave you should have it healing quickly.”
“What exactly was that foul tasting mess you made me drink?” Ronan asked as she unwrapped his arm to peek at his wound. Strangely it did not hurt.
“Cow urine,” She answered.
“What?” Ronan’s stomach turned but Ula’s laughter settled it again. “Witch.”
“It was just water, herbs, and a bit of healing magic.” She cut her eyes up at him. “I wouldn’t have fed you urine unless you were dying.”
“Remind me not to die when you are close by.” Ronan wrinkled his nose. She rewrapped his arm.
“It is healing quickly.”
“It doesn’t hurt,” Ronan told her.
“A little spell to ease your suffering.” She shrugged. “I thought you would need it after that exchange between you and Fiona last night. You may not remember but if you hadn’t have been ill you would have needed both of your arms.”
Ronan frowned. “You should have healed me earlier then.”
“I tried. You would not drink the broth remember?” Ula looked at him and he grinned.
“And I wouldn’t have this morning if you hadn’t forced me.” He turned, waving her to walk with him back to the camp. “I want to trust you, Ula. Do not make me regret it.” She merely nodded.
“Will you and Fiona…” Ula’s mouth closed when Ronan slanted a gaze at her.
“Will we what?”
She chose her words carefully. “Will you finish what you started in Fullerk?”
Ronan turned his eyes forward. “No.”
Ula grunted. “She did stay at your side when you were groping at her last night.”
“I’m no good in relationships.” Ronan murmured, uncertain if he wanted to broach such a subject with this sorceress.
“Humph!” She sniffed indelicately. The sound made him smile as the stepped back into view of the camp.
“I suppose that grin means you’ve made up?” Keegan jibed.
“It does.” Ronan reached for Sorcha and swung atop her back. He held his hand down to Fiona. She stared at his fingers. Surely he didn’t mean for her to ride with him.
“I’ll take no chances. You were sent to protect the sword.” Ronan could see her thoughts flickering in her golden-flecked eyes. “The sword stays with me.” Fiona still hesitated a moment longer, then hesitantly took his hand and allowed him to swing her up behind him.
“You’ve ruined my horses.” Keegan growled. “Two weeks ago if you’d done that, she would have bucked both of you to the ground.”
“She likes me.” Ronan patted Sorcha’s neck. “And she’s not ruined. She’s just right.” Keegan grunted before turning his horse toward the road. One by one the others followed.
Arien soon took the lead, scouting for dangers ahead. Ronan watched him, noting the smile on the boy’s face. He felt important with a task that would benefit the group. And he was as brave as any soldier.
“Don’t you think it’s dangerous to let him do that?” Fiona asked lowly when the boy disappeared fromm view.
“Ahearn would protect him,” Ronan answered with confidence.
“That’s a lot of faith in a horse,” she said. “The boy is very young.”
“What do you do, Fiona, when you aren’t saving swords from the dark forces?” Keegan called back over his shoulder.
“What do you mean what do I do?”
Keegan allowed his horse to fall back and rode along side Ronan. “I mean where do you call home? What do you do there? Are you married? Do you have children?”
“No husband,” Ronan said without thinking.
“That’s right. No husband. No children,” Fiona answered. “I live in a place called Hovinda. And when I’m not doing work for Merisgale, I’m training.”
“Training for what?” Keegan asked, curiosity edging his voice.
“For the work I will do for Merisgale.”
Ronan turned to look over his shoulder at her. “That’s not much of a life.”
She looked at him pointedly. “As opposed to the life of an unmarried blacksmith and apprentice?”
“Good point.” Ronan faced forward again. It had been a good many years since he had any life outside of smithing.
“No suitors? Boyfriends? Lovers?” Keegan pressed and Ronan slanted him a curious look.
“I have no time for it,” Fiona said sharply.
“Serpentines are excellent gardeners,” Ula offered suddenly, joining the conversation without being invited. “Hovinda has the best soil for herb growing I’ve ever seen.”
Ronan felt Fiona stiffen behind him. “Yes, we are and it does.”
“What do you grow in your garden?” Ronan asked, attempting to ease the tension between Fiona and Ula. He didnt like it, especially since Ula had offered him the truth of what was between them.
“I grow vegetables. Some grow herbs. Others harvest larger crops.”
“Profitable.” Keegan nodded.
“I bought some gullberries from a Serpentine in Fullerk once that were the best I’d ever used. They were picked at exactly the right time. Too soon and they would have been sour. Too late and they would have rotted before I could use them.” Ula continued, “As it happened, they were perfect and I was able to save someone’s life with them.”
“That should have been quite a change for you,” Fiona said then her words snapped off when Ronan reined the horse. He could not let this continue or it would grow worse. If it weren’t stopped now, eventually there would be another episode to deal with like the one before. And there might not be Sledgers about to put an end to their fighting again.
“Ride ahead,” He told Keegan and Ula.
“Let it go,” Ula murmured but Ronan just looked at her, waiting for her to do as he wished. She sighed and continued on. Ronan did not dismount.
“We were ambushed by centaurs. One of them was going to kill Arien. She saved him. She held my hand when we crossed the River Blanch. And I believe she was fighting the Sledgers right alongside the both of us.” Ronan kept his voice low and non-threatening. “I understand your pain, Fiona, but she does not deserve to suffer because of it. She suffers enough with the memory of what she had to do.”
“You were not there,” Fiona argued. “My grandmother was a good woman. She never hurt anyone. She would not.”
“No I wasn’t there. And you were just a child. Your memory is of a child’s point of view. Have you done nothing yourself at one time or another that would frighten someone so young? Would they understand your motives?” Ronan shook his head. “And no one is without flaw or weaknesses.”
Fiona said nothing so he continued. “I have doubted Ula many times. She is hard to understand. But her actions have told me that she means to only do what is right.”
“I shouldn’t have been made to see it.”
Ronan turned then so he could see her. “No, you shouldn’t have. She told me that it was your grandmother that made the choice of having you witness what happened.” Fiona’s eyes lowered and he saw a tear roll down her cheek. “So she has hurt you by making that choice.”
“It is easier to hate someone you don’t know than it is someone you love,” she whispered.
“You are not a child anymore, Fiona,” Ronan said softly. “And she is older and haunted daily by what she has done. Let her live with the punishments she sentences herself. She does not need yours atop that.”
He touched her knee, gave it a squeeze. “You do not have to like her. You can hate her if you wish. All I ask is that you be civil and as a favor to me, do not be cruel to her.”
“Why do you think I would do you any favors?” She blinked back any other tears she might have had, forced her pain away.
“Because you are still here and have not slapped me yet.” He smiled. “And because you took care of me when I was ill.” Fiona met his gaze, and then slowly inclined her head.
“That was easy enough. Perhaps I should ask for that kiss as well.” He was joking with her and he was relieved when she rolled her eyes and smiled. “No? I suppose it would be pressing my luck.” He faced forward and urged Sorcha forward.
“We are stopping?” Keegan called back.
“I need to stretch my legs.” Ronan answered. He ran a hand over his face, letting his fingers slide over the stubble that had begun to stick out roughly from his jaw.
“Is anything wrong?” Keegan circled his horse around as Ronan walked away from the horse and Fiona. Ronan didn’t like the way Keegan scrutinized his face.
Ronan shook his head. “No. Just sore and need a moment to think.” The others took advantage of the break, each dismounting to either relieve themselves or to stretch their own limbs. When he looked back at the horseman, he found Keegan’s eyes still narrowed on his face.
“Something is wrong. You look as if you are ready to bite off the head of a small rodent.” Keegan swung to the ground and fell into step beside Ronan. “What is it?”
“It’s nothing.” The last thing Ronan wanted was more embarrassment. “Weariness has made me grumpy.” He made a production of stretching his arms and legs, hoping Keegan would just leave him alone. No such luck.
“It’s that woman, isn’t it?” Keegan pinpointed the problem immediately and it ground on Ronan’s nerves.
“What?”
Keegan shrugged his large shoulders. “A beautiful woman riding with you. No telling how long since you’ve had one in your bed.” He grunted, glancing back at the others as he lowered his voice, “The boy is right. By taking on the responsibility of delivering the sword, it makes you one of the king’s guards. And there are some privileges that come with the title. She could not reject you if you sought companionship with her.”
“Did you just suggest I rape the woman?” Ronan stopped and faced Keegan.
“I suggest no such thing. But a woman thinks up reasons to deny herself. She’d have no room for that.” Keegan appeared insulted and Ronan frowned “Of course. I know what you meant. I’m not in the best of moods.” Ronan tried to make up for his words.
“So you look to pick a fight with me?” Keegan’s feathers were not smoothed by Ronan’s attempt.
“I suppose I was. You seem the most promising for the job.” Ronan suddenly chuckled. “And you are right. It is the woman that has me this way. Perhaps she should ride with you.”
Keegan shook his head and held up his hands. “No thank you. You are more patient than I. I filled myself in Fullerk and I would become ill tempered.
We’ll reach the Jobi Mountains tomorrow. The horses will need to stop for rest. Lots of caves in the foothills we will be traveling through,” Keegan suggested and Ronan laughed.
“You mean for me to drag her off into a hole like a beast?” He laughed again and Keegan grinned, eyes slanting in Fiona’s direction.
“She doesn’t strike me as someone completely opposed to beastly activities.” The horseman turned and headed away from him. Ronan didn’t stand there too long contemplating exactly what she might be opposed to. Instead he walked back to his horse and checked the pack.
“I didn’t think that you might not be comfortable sitting behind me. If you would rather lead the horse, I don’t mind swapping places with you,” He said when Fiona stretched her legs.
“I don’t usually ride. I walk.” She admitted, rubbing the inside of thighs with her palms. He wanted to do that for her. That realization made him look away.
“I didn’t ride myself until I started this trek.” Ronan gave Sorcha’s flank a pat. “I’m getting better and this old girl is pretty patient. She doesn’t require much from me and usually goes the way she is supposed to without being told.”
“They are beautiful animals.” Fiona smiled, reaching to touch Sorcha’s coat. “Keegan Yore has raised some fine horses.”
“He has and I am grateful that he allowed us use of them. I can’t imagine trying to walk this long way.” He glanced at her. “How long did it take you to walk it?”
“I was given a lift a time or two from farmers with wagons and such so it took me very little time to get from Merisgale to Fullerk.” She smiled when he cupped his hands so he could help hoist her back atop the animal. She stepped into his hands and swung her leg over the horse’s back gracefully. Ronan mounted behind her.
“There is a village just past the foothills of Jobi. I can obtain another horse there.” Fiona offered.
“Is Jobi as large as Fullerk?” Ronan asked.
“No, it is just a small place. A few farmers and their families, a small tavern, and a school,” Fiona answered. “Thatched roofs and sod walls.”
“Sounds lovely,” Ronan said sarcastically and she chuckled.
“They are a simple but good people. It shall not be so bad,” Fiona offered. “It can’t be much different than your own home.”
“I have a roof,” Ronan growled. “And a mind to think with”
“Yes, you were very clever to make a fake sword for the centaur,” Fiona agreed, nodding so her hair brushed Ronan’s cheek
“Are there lonely women in Jobi?” he asked and she laughed this time.
“Most are children or are married.” Fiona glanced over her shoulder at him. “It is good to hear you are revived enough to think of such things after being so weakened last night.”
“Ula cast a spell where I would feel no pain. It works. I’ve nearly forgotten about the injury,” Ronan told her. “It is better than having her smearing cow urine all over the wound which I believe would be the alternative.”
Fiona’s lips curled before she faced forward. “She was worried about you last night.”
Ronan’s brow rose. Her words were spoken softly as if she felt some tenderness for the sorceress when not long ago he had to tell her not to be cruel. Perhaps he’d only spoken what she already knew in her heart. Perhaps he’d actually helped her let go of her pain.
“Most likely afraid she wouldn’t have a chance to wave her rat foot at me again,” He chuckled lowly.