He smiled warmly and nodded hello. “Welcome, m’Lady.”
Nervous about talking to anyone but Cian and Liam just yet, she smiled and nodded in return.
“I will show Madison around, then join you to discuss our next move,” Cian said to Liam and Bécc. “Meanwhile, fetch me Deirdre.”
“Who’s Deirdre?” she asked after a stable boy took his horse, and they continued walking.
“She’s a trusted cousin who will look after you when I have to attend to business.” He squeezed her hand in reassurance. “You will like her. She’s much like Riona in her own way.”
“Okay.” She hoped so. “You don’t have to show me around, Cian. I know you need to take care of things.”
It was clear many wished to speak to him in passing, but he merely introduced her, told them he would talk to them soon, and kept going.
“Things can wait awhile longer,” he said. “You need not be on your own quite yet.” He shrugged. “Besides, I would rather be the one to show you our castle.”
“You mean your castle.”
“Either way.” He didn’t dwell on the telling slip but moved on. “I wanted to be the one to show you around.”
“Then can we go in there first?” She pointed at the armory, intrigued. “For some reason, I’ve got an overwhelming urge to see medieval Irish weaponry.”
“Of course.” He introduced her to his blacksmith in passing and brought her into one of several rooms full of swords, axes, daggers, bows and arrows, as well as numerous other things.
“Good God, look at all this.” She felt compelled to go into an adjoining room. “The weapons are smaller in here.”
“Because they are better suited to lassies as they sometimes battle too.” He glanced from where she stared back to her. “Would you like to hold one?”
“Yeah.” She stopped him when he reached for one sword in particular. “Not that one, though.” The compulsion she’d felt when she drifted in here intensified until she narrowed in on a delicate blade with an intricately carved handle. “That one.”
“You were drawn to it,ta?” He pulled it down for her. “As you were compelled to come in here in the first place?”
Suddenly desperate to hold the blade, she nodded and wrapped her hand around the hilt, only for a strange, empowering feeling to roll through her. As if responding to what she felt, the vine of leaves and flowers carved into the handle ignited in emerald then faded.
“What just happened?” she whispered, having trouble finding her voice.
“I would say you just bonded with the blade meant for you.” He seemed incredulous. “A very ancient blade at that.”
“That’s not normal, is it?” she deduced. “Not for a druidess.”
“No.” Cian looked from the blade to her face in what appeared both shock and pride. “At least not druidesses in this day and age.”
When she frowned in confusion, he went on.
“’Tis said that there was once a special faction of druids who not only communed with the gods and possessed magic but battled as well.” His gaze rose from the blade to her face again. “They were calledna cinn gan ainm, or the Unnamed Ones, and were, until to this moment, considered folklore. Nothing more than a Celtic memory to rally men to battle and instill wonder in wee ones.”
Almost the moment he said it, green flashed in her vision, then faded. “I think there’s more to that Celtic memory.” She flipped the weapon this way and that, testing its weight. “Because I know this blade. More than that, I know how to use it.” She shook her head and looked at him. “How is that possible? How can I be one of these druids? Or, in my case, druidesses?”
“Either through your soul being reborn,” he replied. “Or the gods delivering you as they did my brothers and me.” He considered her. “Your eyes just flashed the same green as your blade, so there’s a connection, to be sure. What of your parents? Did they ever say anything? Because ‘tis clear you have at least some Irish in you. That you descend from this country.”
“I do,” she confessed. “My sisters and I have no memory of our parents or how we ended up alone in the woods when we were little. Fortunately, we were kept together and put into foster care. The only reason we know we’re Irish is because we had our DNA tested and got unusual results, to say the least.”
“How so?”
“Well, despite growing up in America, you’re right. WeareIrish.” Crazily so. “One hundred percent Irish.”
His brows shot up. “’Tis rare in your day and age,ta?”
“Definitely.” She shook her head. “Most people descend from a few other countries.”
