Chapter 17 | Cillian

Chapter 17

Cillian

C illian stared at the letter, his eyes scanning the paper as though reading it again might change the words on the page.

English boats spotted off coast in Waterford. 200 men.

Expected arrival in 4 days.

Lord Kilkenny awaits reinforcements.

Come quickly.

“Cillian? Are you well, love?”

Cora’s gentle hand on his shoulder did little to quiet the storm building in his mind. He’d thought they’d have more time. The elders had been favorably impressed with Cora during their visit, and they’d promised to send Clann Abhaile’s guardians as reinforcements to his own men. They hadn’t yet arrived, and though his own men were able warriors, the more luchthonn on their side, the better their chances.

He held the letter out to her. “A message from your father.”

Cillian waited, watching her face pale as she read. She looked up, her brows drawn in tight. “So soon? I thought—I thought we’d have more time.”

He shook his head. “It could have been any time. Edwin’s cracked if he thinks he’ll have surprise on his side. Chances are, he’s trying to cow your father and the other lords into submission. Two hundred men aren’t an army, but it’s more than your father could muster on his own.”

Cora’s eyes flashed angrily. “My father will not kneel to him.”

“Of course not. We’ll keep your people safe, Mo ghrá . I promise.”

Cillian pulled her close, wrapping her in his arms. She shuddered, digging her fingers into his wolf’s skin as they embraced. “And you?” she murmured. “Who keeps you safe?”

“Do my ears deceive me?” he teased. “Is my wife actually concerned for my safety? Surely not—unless she still desires to deliver the death blow herself? Something about mounting my head on a stick?”

Cora scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Stop it, you great buffoon! This isn’t a joke!”

He kissed her head, then her lips. “No, love. It’s not a joke. But I’ll not have you worrying yourself into an early grave on my account. I’ll be fine.”

They stood quietly for a moment, holding each other as though there would be no other chance. Cillian held her tight, memorizing the feel of her in his arms. He’d never feared death before. Never flinched at the idea of a fight. All his life, he’d run toward danger and laughed in the face of death and pain. He’d never had anything to lose before.

When they parted, Cora looked up at him with glassy eyes, her mouth fixed into a stubborn frown. “Do you mean to leave today?”

“Aye. The sooner we get there, the better. We’ll need all the time we can get to plan for the battle ahead.”

She nodded and straightened her dress, erasing any sign that she’d been upset. “How many will go with us?”

Cillian raised a brow. “What do you mean by ‘us,’ lass? You’ll go to Clann Abhaile . My mother’s expecting you.”

“The hell I will!”

With her clenched fists and wild eyes, Cora resembled a wolf more and more each day. “Cora, listen. The elders will keep you safe and—”

“It’s my home, Cillian! I’ll not sit idly by knitting hats while you ride off to protect my people!”

“It’s too dangerous!”

She pressed close, her nose nearly touching his. “Do you think I married you so I could hide away while my people fought for their lives?”

He frowned and crossed his arms, not at all bothered by her proximity. “No, I think you married me because you knew I could win this battle. And I can, woman, without you there to distract me!”

“I WILL NOT BE LEFT BEHIND!”

Cillian’s snarl drowned out her shout, his angry growls filling the tent. He laid his hands on her shoulders and held her still. “You are my mate ! I’ll not risk your life to some bloody Englishman’s blade. You’ll do as you’re told and go to Clann Abhaile until I send for you!”

“I will not,” she seethed. “I will not be left to sit and simper away like some... some frightened child. I asked you to help me protect my people. What kind of person will I be if I run away when they need me?”

Cillian yanked her forward, ravaging her lips in a violent kiss. She fought him for a moment with balled-up fists against his chest but soon returned his passion with sharp bites and heady moans. He buried his hands into her hair, twisting the thick locks around his fingers as he nipped at her lips. All too soon, they pulled apart, their lungs desperate for air. Gasping for breath, Cillian rested his forehead against hers and stroked her hair.

“Alive, lass,” he said, his voice rough with emotion. “You’ll be alive.”

Cora collapsed against him, a single sob escaping her throat. She grabbed the wolf’s skin at his throat and held it tight, burying her face in the thick fur. The wolf rumbled in the back of his mind, upset at his mate’s distress. Cillian nuzzled the top of her head, dropping light kisses over her hair.

“What if you die? What will I do then, Cillian?”

“Well, you wouldn’t have to worry about the fur all over your things anymore.”

Cora lifted her head so quickly that she knocked him in the jaw. He’d tried to lighten the mood, but the return of the fire in her eyes suggested he’d been unsuccessful.

“Now’s not the time for your jokes, Cillian Fane!”

“You’re right, Mo ghrá. It’s not,” he agreed, rubbing his jaw. “The point still stands. I don’t want you anywhere near this fight. If Edwin has sent two hundred men, he means for it to be a bloody affair. I won’t have you in the middle of that.”

Cora fixed him with a look he’d become quite familiar with. It was the same look she’d had the very first night he’d met her, the night she’d barged into his tent and demanded he marry her and protect her lands. She’d worn it again when she’d challenged him in the sparring ring, and he’d tried to put her off. It was the same look she’d had on her face when the elders claimed their marriage illegitimate.

Whenever his wife wore that expression, his life changed.

“Cillian, you can’t keep me away. Ossory was my home. My people! You can put me on a horse to Clann Abhaile if you like. Put a dozen men on guard! I’ll escape and ride straight back. You know I will!”

Cillian sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “Cora, I don’t—”

“I won’t go near any battles,” she protested. “Let me ride with you to my father’s castle. I’ll stay there behind the walls and assist however I can with preparations and resources. Would that be good enough for you?”

He wanted to say no. Wanted to tie her to her horse and send her far away. As confident as he was in his men, battles changed like the tides. He’d been in skirmishes before that should have been easy victories, yet they’d nearly claimed his life. No one could truly predict how a battle would go. Lord Kilkenny’s walls were strong, but that was no guarantee. All it would take would be one soldier—one arrow or blade—and she’d be gone, her light snuffed out.

His life would be over.

He realized that he hadn’t yet said the words to her. They’d grown much closer in the past weeks, but still, the time had never seemed right. He thought she knew. In a way, he said it each time he called her by his preferred name, Mo ghrá— my love. But he’d never truly said the words, and neither had she. He considered telling her now. Perhaps, if he did, if he professed his love, she’d do as he asked.

“Cillian? Please.”

It wasn’t the time. He wouldn’t cheapen those words by using them as a bargaining tool in an argument.

“Very well,” he said. “You’ll go as far as the castle. And you’ll stay there until the fighting is over, and I come for you myself. No heroics, no running off to rescue any lost lambs. Understand? You stay behind those walls.”

Cora nodded, wiping tears from her cheeks. She leaned up on her toes and kissed him, soft and sweet. They embraced a moment more, separating when a hard knock at the door shattered the quiet.

Cathall entered, a grim smile on his face. “If you’re done, Cillian? We’ve begun preparations already. With any luck, we’ll be on the road in two hours.”

Cora’s cheeks went red. Cillian wondered if she hadn’t realized that people could hear their argument. It was a good thing Cathall interrupted them. Given more time, Cillian might have convinced his wife to make amends in more exciting ways.

“Good lad,” he said, adjusting the wolf’s skin around his neck. “Let’s get to work.”

CILLIAN WATCHED HIS wife as they rode toward her father’s castle. She’d been quiet for most of the ride. It wasn’t hard to puzzle out why. His brave mate—she’d packed their belongings up quickly and efficiently without a word of complaint. She’d watched with a blank expression as their tent was torn down and the canvas stowed away for travel. She’d even walked around with food and water for the men as they worked.

She’d done it all with clear eyes and willing hands.

But Cillian knew his wife. Knew what to look for. No one else would have noticed the way her breath hitched when his war table—only ever a large slab of wood on a stump—was chopped into pieces and cleared away. They wouldn’t have seen how her hands trembled ever so slightly when she glanced around the camp from atop her horse.

He noticed.

He’d left her in peace during the journey through Ossory, but as they drew closer to her father’s castle, he watched her more closely. When the walls of the castle came into view, Cillian guided Crow to walk next to Cora’s mare. She stared ahead, her brows drawn together.

“Are you well, wife?”

At first, she said nothing. When she glanced at him, it was as though she hadn’t even noticed him beside her.

“It’s just strange, that’s all.”

“What’s strange?”

“The last time I made this journey, I was so happy to see those walls.” A small, rueful smile spread on her lips. “I hoped my father could save me from you.”

“From my dashing good looks? My charm? Perish the thought, love.”

Cora snorted, shaking her head. “Must you always joke? I would have thought someone called ‘The Wolf King’ would be more serious.” She deepened her voice on his moniker, a teasing light in her eyes.

“Ah, see, that’s a common mistake. Wolves are actually quite playful in the wild. You ought to see the pups chase each other about, trying to nip at each other’s tails. And yes, I’ll bloody well joke all day long if it keeps a smile on your face.”

She smiled, as he’d known she would, but it only lasted until she looked back toward the distant castle.

“It feels different. Like I’ve never seen it before. Is that strange? I know it’s the same. It’s the same stone. The same people. Why does it feel so different?”

“Because you’re different. You’re not the same as you were when you left here.”

Cora pursed her lips together in thought. “I suppose that’s true. I’ve changed, so it seems impossible that everything else hasn’t.”

“It was the same for me the first time I returned to Clann Abhaile after joining an outside pack. It’d only been two years, but... somehow, everything had changed. It wasn’t my home anymore.”

Cora sighed and tucked an escaped strand of hair behind her ear. “No, it’s not, is it?”

Cillian reached between them to grab her hand. He kissed her knuckles softly and said, “Your home’s with me now, Mo ghrá . No matter where we go.”

Finally, the sadness faded from her eyes, and she kissed his hand in return.

THEIR HORSES CARRIED them through the gates of her father’s castle a short while later. Lord Kilkenny himself waited in the courtyard to meet them, and Cora all but leapt off her horse to embrace him.

Kilkenny’s men eyed the luchthonn company warily, but Cillian ignored them. This time, when one of the young stable hands approached him, he handed Crow’s reins off easily.

He approached Cora and her father, waiting for them to separate before he spoke. Cillian reached out a hand in greeting. “We came as soon as your letter arrived. What news?”

Lord Kilkenny clasped his arm and patted his shoulder. “Thank you for your haste. Please, see to your men first. We can discuss everything once you’re settled.”

Cillian shook his head and waved Cathall over. “If Edwin’s men are as close as you say, there’s no time. My men know how to pitch a camp. Just tell them where to go, and they’ll settle themselves. Cathall and I will go with you. The sooner we know what’s happened, the sooner we can make a plan to beat the sorry bastards back.”

Lord Kilkenny nodded and gestured toward the main hall. “This way, then. My steward will see to your men.”

Cora fell in step beside him. He considered asking her to stay behind—his mate was more than capable of setting the men to rights. One look at her expression, however, was enough to dissuade him. Cathall glanced at him over her head as if to ask why she was joining them for a war plan.

In his mind, Cillian scoffed. Let Cathall try to tell Cora to stay behind. See how well it worked out for him. After their argument in the tent, Cillian would just as soon keep all his bits and pieces connected. There would be other battles to fight with his wife—he wasn’t foolish enough to make this one of them.

Once inside, Lord Kilkenny led them down the winding halls to his study. A map of Ossory and the surrounding lands lay on his desk, with several wooden figures scattered across it. He gestured to the map—and several missives piled next to it.

“The latest reports from the coast are grim. The English have burnt Waterford to the ground. They took no prisoners and left nothing undisturbed. By the time my men reached them, they found nothing but smoldering ashes.”

Cora’s hand went to her mouth in surprise. “Nothing? Even those who couldn’t—what about the women and children? The elderly?”

Lord Kilkenny shook his head. “They left none alive. It was the same as the village—Baunmore. Edwin means to make an example of us, it seems.”

“Why?” Cora cried. “Why Ossory? What have we—our people—done to deserve this?”

Her father sighed and shook his head. “Edwin wants Ireland. His own lands aren’t enough to keep him happy, so he seeks to spread English influence and control here. He sent letters to the lords attempting to buy their surrender, but we refused. Now, he will try to take it by force. I’d thought we’d have more time to prepare, but it seems he plans to show the lords his power by razing Ossory to the ground.”

Cillian laid a hand on Cora’s shoulder. “This is war, lass. Don’t look for heroes and justice here. War turns men into savage beasts, and the worst of them won’t change their skin like me.”

She swallowed, struggling against whatever fire raged in her heart. He understood it well. He’d been barely out of boyhood when he’d first gone into battle and seen what men could do in the name of greed, king, and country.

She would learn.

Finally, Cora nodded, her mouth set in a grim line. “What will you do? How do we stop them?”

Her father pointed to the map. “Our best chance is to send your men to join our soldiers here. It’s the most likely path Edwin’s forces will take to reach us, and it’s defensible. The land is open, but there’s a forest nearby—here—that would allow for safe travel.”

Cillian looked up from the map. “And your men—they’ve been told to expect us?”

Lord Kilkenny nodded. “Yes. They’ve been... prepared for the forms their allies may take.”

“Good. We’ll leave at dawn, then. If the English are moving this quickly, we’ll need all the time we can get.”

“Agreed. I plan to send most of our company along with you. A few will stay here to guard the castle, but only as many as éogan deems necessary.”

Cillian smirked. “Probably best to travel separately. Horses can be... uneasy around us at certain times.”

“Ah, yes, that would make sense, wouldn’t it? Very well. Our company will follow the main road south—here.” He pointed to one area on the map, then another. “Your men can take this road—through the woods—and meet us at the border beyond the town.”

The conversation went on for a while longer, but by the end, they had a solid plan of attack. Cora listened, her face pale and drawn as they discussed casualties and contingencies, but she remained quiet. When their meeting concluded, she kissed her father’s cheek and followed them out without a word. Once they reached the main hall, Cillian sent Cathall to share the plans with their men. For the rest of the day, they would rest and prepare; luchthonn and madraí both would need to know their role in the coming battle.

When they were finally alone, Cillian pulled Cora into his arms. “What troubles you, Mo ghrá ?”

Her laugh was sharp and angry as she buried her face in his chest. “Everything. My people are dying for nothing but greed, and I must watch those I love most ride off to war to save them while I stay behind. It all troubles me.”

He kissed the top of her hair, then pulled away far enough to meet her eyes. “Be strong, wife. We’ll need you after the battle. Don’t forget that. Your father has a plan—a good one. We’ll be fine.”

Cora took his face in her hands and held his gaze. “You come back to me, Cillian Fane. I’d make a terrible widow, and we both know it.”

“Aye, love. I promise.”

He knew better than to make promises before war, but for her, he’d promise the world.