An Immortal Descent

Henry dug his heels into the side of the horse, bringing another squeal from Ailish. “Keep a good hold, and you’ll come to no harm.”

 

 

I directed my horse alongside Henry, veering around an elderly couple who hobbled toward the entrance of the inn. Age had bent the man’s back to an unnatural curve, diminishing his significant height by at least a foot. The woman held onto his elbow, the hood of her dark blue cape drawn up to conceal most of her face. Something about them caught my eye, but by the time I turned my mount, they had already passed through the doorway.

 

“Something wrong?” Henry asked me.

 

I shook my head and spurred forward. “Where are we going?” I asked Ailish.

 

“Past the abbey to the south gate,” she said into Henry’s back. “Follow the road a pace till you enter the woods. When you come across a burned-out tree trunk, you’ll see a trail to her cottage just after.”

 

For the sake of privacy, we didn’t speak much as we wove a curved path through the town. Reaching the abbey, I arched my neck to take in the dozen spires and large stone tower that dwarfed us in shadow when we veered southward. Near the gate, two well-armed redcoats swaggered into our path, until Henry ordered them aside. They didn’t even ask his name before stepping out of our way, hurried bows replacing the original swagger. I held back a smile as we passed beneath the arched gate, unsure whether his perfect English accent or overall demeanor had registered more clearly with the men.

 

With Wexford and the vast sea to our backs, pastureland stretched for several furlongs in front of us, dotted with sheep and a handful of thatched cottages. Beyond this, I spied the gentle rise of hills where the grass-covered fields came to an abrupt end at the edge of a dense forest.

 

The dirt road was near empty other than the occasional shepherd, affording the necessary privacy for me to give Henry a full recounting of my adventures. This time, I began with the first inn where James and I had stopped to have my horse reshod.

 

Henry cursed under his breath on several occasions, though the most violent reaction came when I related my kidnapping and Calhoun’s plan to profit from my gift. I purposefully left out the part about Ailish attacking me onboard the Sea Witch to avoid any hard feelings toward the girl, instead attributing the aggression to Calhoun.

 

Upon hearing the slight modification of facts, Ailish found the courage to extract her face from Henry’s greatcoat and turn toward me. Resting her cheek on his back, she gave me a grateful look, and even added bits and pieces to my account of Calhoun’s ultimate downfall.

 

Once we finished, Henry whistled softly under his breath, and I marveled at how well he had accepted our story. Six months ago, he wouldn’t have believed a word of it. Then again, neither would have I.

 

Another road crossed our course, offering an alternate route through open pastureland for those travelers who wished to avoid the wooded hills straight ahead. We continued forward, our destination somewhere within the forest rather than around it.

 

“Are you sure Calhoun is dead?” Henry asked after a moment.

 

“Yes—” I started.

 

“He’s not dead, milord,” Ailish interrupted, “but has the life of a rock.”

 

Henry shot me a quizzical look.

 

“Don’t bother arguing,” I laughed. “Just suffice it to say that he won’t be going anywhere anytime soon.”

 

“Rocks aren’t wont to walk without help,” Ailish agreed. While we rode, her grip on Henry remained tight enough to turn her knuckles white. Even so, a dreamy smile had found its way to her lips, in proof that she wasn’t finding the experience entirely unpleasant.

 

“I’ll take your word for it, Miss O’Bearra,” Henry said. “As for you, Selah, you shall never leave my side again.”

 

I scoffed. “Well, that’s hardly practical, unless you intend to tie me to you for the rest of our lives.”

 

“An ingenious idea,” Henry said. “Glad you thought of it.”

 

Ailish scrunched her nose in thought. “You needn’t worry for Selah, milord. She’s plenty o’ fire to keep safe. And Cailleach’s blood be loath to touch her for fear o’ the same in return.”

 

The compliment soothed my pride, and I lifted my chin a fraction of an inch. “Thank you, Ailish. It’s good to know that someone thinks me capable.”

 

She breathed a dreamy sigh. “Though most ladies wouldn’t mind being tied to you, milord,” she continued, her eyes glazing slightly.

 

“Ailish!” I cried. “No one is being tied to anyone else.”

 

A deep chuckle rose up from Henry’s chest. “More’s the pity, if you ask me.”

 

I laughed despite myself. “You both should blush for shame, except in your case, Henry, I fear it would be easier to coax a stone to sprout legs.”

 

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