Soldiers poured into the inner bailey, led by her uncle Bevan, fully armed and prepared to kill anyone who threatened their family.
And among them was Kenneth Ó Phelan.Fergus appeared stunned by the sight, and he hesitated with his blade.
Mairead fought to break free, but her brother’s grip only tightened.His gaze locked on the men, and he pressed her behind him.Although she realized he was keeping the Ó Phelans distracted, giving the MacEgan men time to move into place, her heart was breaking.
‘Liam, I beg you, help Balor.’This wasn’t supposed to be their ending.She was supposed to marry Balor, waking beside him each morn, and building a life at his side.Perhaps having children of their own.
The tears slid down her cheeks as she stared back at him.Balor believed he was about to die.And she simply couldn’t accept it.
Kenneth stepped forward and called out to his father, ‘Let my brother go.’
Fergus dug his blade into the side of Balor’s neck and blood welled against his skin.‘No.’
Mairead’s scream of anguish caught in the back of her throat as she pressed her fist to her own mouth, horrified at the thought of watching him die.
Then suddenly, Fergus froze, the sword falling from hishands.His face paled, and he dropped to his knees, blood spilling over him.The other soldier spun with his spear, only to see Orla standing behind the body of her husband, gripping a blade.She paled, her husband’s blood covering her shaking hands.
Balor took advantage of the distraction and disarmed the soldier, forcing him back.The man raised his hands in surrender as he retreated.
Balor turned to his mother, and Orla gripped her waist, as if she couldn’t believe what she’d done.For a moment, she looked as if she wanted to embrace her son but didn’t dare move.
‘Are you…all right?’Orla asked, her voice barely above a whisper.Balor gave a nod.
At that, Mairead broke free of Liam’s hold and ran across the space, not even caring about the other soldiers as she threw herself into Balor’s arms.He gripped her tightly, breathing in the scent of her hair as she embraced him.
‘I love you,’ he murmured against her cheek.‘I should have said it sooner.’
She wept in his arms, and he kissed her, even as they were surrounded by the MacEgans.‘I love you, too.Don’t ever let me go.’
‘I won’t,’ he promised, resting his forehead against hers.‘I’ll steal you away if I have to, and I won’t give you back.No one will come between us again.’
She couldn’t seem to get close enough to him, needing to feel his body against hers.‘I’m never leaving you again.Wherever you go, I go.’She didn’t care if she had to live in poverty for the rest of her life.If Balor was with her, she would be the richest woman in the world.
He embraced her tightly, and she was dimly aware ofthe Ó Phelan men pulling back, surrendering to the MacEgan fighters.
Her father stepped forward and straightened.The moment King Patrick faced the Ó Phelans, they dropped to their knees.‘After your rebellion, you don’t deserve to live.’His voice was filled with fury.‘But you will each receive a fair trial, and thebrehonswill judge your guilt or innocence.’
Patrick turned his attention to Balor.Mairead clung to the man she loved, prepared to fight for him.But before the king could speak, Liam interrupted, saying, ‘I owe my life to Balor Ó Phelan.And he deserves to be rewarded for his bravery today.’With a faint smile, he suggested, ‘Perhaps the hand of my sister in marriage?’
Mairead couldn’t stop her radiant smile.Her father’s gaze softened upon them, and he nodded his permission.‘After the Demon of Éireann fought for us, he has proven his loyalty.’
Joy broke through her at his words, and she smiled through her tears.‘Thank you,’ she breathed.She held Balor fiercely, feeling as if the broken pieces of her heart had mended together at last.
‘I will provide a place for them here, at Laochre,’ Patrick offered.
‘They likely won’t need it,’ Liam interrupted.Mairead didn’t understand what her brother meant, but he continued, ‘Baloristhe bastard son of the Earl of Beaumont, after all.’
She pulled back to stare at Balor.His expression turned slightly uncomfortable, but he murmured, ‘It’s true.I only just learned of it.’He brushed a hand over her hair and added, ‘But if you would rather live in Éireann instead of England…’
‘I don’t care where we live,’ she answered, tracing her fingers along his jaw.‘As long as we’re together.’
He kissed her again, and there were cheers and applause all around them.When the noise died down, Orla stepped forward.She was gripping her hands together, but she spoke up loud enough for everyone to hear.‘Balor is not a bastard.’
She cast an apologetic look towards her son, and Mairead tightened her embrace around Balor.
‘What are you trying to say?’Patrick asked.The question seemed to hang within the space, the weight of their future lying in the balance.
‘I mean that Balor is the legitimate son of Lord William Fleming de Beaumont.My husband.’
