Free Irish Moon by Amber Scott

she said she didn’t wish she’d
been there instead. A little pang of jealousy shot through her at
Danny’s praise for the bard. Their words were magickal, held more
real power than the boy guessed. She wished she could say the same
about her own.
    “Well, Danny, I best be off to bed. I think
you ought to as well before your father finds us and fines me three
embroidered tunics for keeping you up late. We have a big day ahead
tomorrow, well, I do leastwise, what with finding myself a club and
all.” She didn’t let herself remember what tomorrow really brought,
or of everything that had ended today.
    Danny giggled harder, but nodded. He threw
his arms around her, breaking her heart with happiness and love.
Breanne rocked his small frame to and fro in hers.
    “I love you, Dan,” she said and kissed his
head.
    “I love you, too,” he said with such feeling
that Breanne knew she’d better leave fast or end up crying again on
his shoulder.
     
     

Chapter Five
     
    In the light of dawn, Breanne woke with a
single panicked thought: what if he wakes and has no food or
explanation? Will he leave? She yanked the covers from her, the
cool morning air feeling good on her hot skin, and dressed
hurriedly. She had to get back to that cave and the man now, before
Niall placed an inevitable hold on her leaving the grounds without
escort. With a murderer lurking about and no studies for her to be
leaving to, she’d lose her freedom fast.
    Finn lay unperturbed at the edge of her bed,
sleeping soundly. Breanne nudged him. He rolled over but didn’t
open his eyes and she knew by the limpness of his body that he
wouldn’t soon be rising. She didn’t doubt he’d finished half the
bottle of wine last night, perhaps more.
    No matter. Far better that he stayed. The
less he dealt with the stranger, the less he could interfere and
have her second guessing her actions. Her belly quivered at the
thought of meeting the man alone, by daylight, with him awake. She
blamed hunger and left without preamble for the kitchens.
    The scent of bacon roused her stomach as she
entered the busy room. Several freshly baked loafs of grainy bread
cooled on the open window’s ledge. The servants, some fuidir and
others free and part of the feine, spoke and moved with liveliness,
paying her no mind as she filled her satchel with a loaf and choice
meats. News of Heremon’s death must not have reached many ears,
Breanne concluded and was glad she’d woken when she did.
    She headed for the same door as last night
but stopped short when Erin Burke’s plump frame blocked her way.
“And where do ye think you’re off to this morning, Miss
O’Donnell?”
    Breanne rushed to the first lie her brain
could formulate. “To the Friary. Gannon O’Shannon. My uncle has
invited….”
    A loud crash behind of something distinctly
ceramic stole Erin’s attention and Breanne took the chance to slip
past her and sprint down the slope of yard before the old cook
could follow and call after her.
    Just past the gate, Breanne stopped to catch
her breath and peek-check for Erin barreling after her. Could Niall
have already warned the staff that she was not to be out alone any
longer? Seeing the coast clear, Breanne continued in a fast walk
down her usual trail with the hood of her evergreen cloak
concealing her blonde strands.
    Eating along the way, she skipped her usual
blessings and prayers until she reached her destination. There she
knelt outside of the cave, asked Morrigan for her protection and
sprinkled a few crumbs of bread on the mossy ground. She entered
the cave slowly, her belly fluttering with turns of fear and
excitement.
    When she saw him, she stilled. Sunlight
filtered through from both the entrance and a small hole in the
stone ceiling. Breanne looked at the hole in wonder and followed
its path down to rest her gaze on his face. Her breath caught for a
moment. Tiny sparkling dust particles danced in the stream of light
bathing the man’s smooth, whiskered