Curse of the Celts by Clara O'Connor (most romantic novels .TXT) 📕

showed traces of blood and debris, bearing witness to whatever had happened here. I caught sight of an outflung arm, blood trailing along it and pooling underneath its owners unmoving hand.

“Damn,” Marcus breathed, momentarily stilling the horse before he picked up speed. The motion unbalanced me slightly, and there was suddenly more weight on my front; with each bounce I managed to put a little more of my body over the horse. If I could shift my weight a little further over… Hopefully, I wouldn’t break my foolish neck. I timed my effort with the bouncing of the horse and then, with everything that was in me, I launched myself off the side of the horse. I landed on my head, my body tumbling heavily in the mud.

Winded, I checked to make sure I still had use of all my faculties. Hurry, hurry, get up, I urged myself as I felt rather than heard the horse’s hooves slow down as Marcus reacted to my near suicidal tumble. No time to think – no time for anything. I needed to get away.

I scrambled to my feet and, gathering my wits, tried to figure out my next step. Buildings were burning all around me, collapsing, sparks flying, with bodies lying still outside what remained of their homes. I snatched a glance behind me. Marcus had wheeled his horse around and his face wore an expression of shock and annoyance at my escape. But, surprisingly, most of his attention was focused beyond me.

I checked behind me in the direction of his gaze.

Gideon, my brother and a handful of warriors were careening down the hill towards us.

Marcus could come for me, but could he manage to bundle me back on that horse before they arrived? Unlikely. His horse whickered, pulling his head against whatever Marcus was doing to his reins. Marcus cast a glance behind him to the beach and the pier where a lone rowboat waited – for him. For us. My mind scrambled to process it. He had known they were here all the time. He had lied and he obviously hadn’t raised the alarm while he was gone. Where had he been? What had he been doing? And where in Hades was Devyn?

Dread was a stone in my stomach. There was no one else coming. My brother was here with just a handful men to stop Devyn and me; Gideon must have told him after we left. But they were alone. There weren’t enough of them, and if the Empire had a chance to kill the poorly guarded King of Mercia…

Marcus wheeled around and rode towards me. I stumbled out of his reach and he halted, putting himself between me and the approaching Mercians.

“Cassandra,” Marcus said as he dismounted carefully from his horse, “come with me.”

“What have you done?” How could he have brought such destruction down on this community? And why?

“The mistletoe.” He edged towards me. “I have to help the people. This illness kills so many in the city. I have to use it to help everyone.”

I shook my head, again stumbling back and watching the oncoming riders behind Marcus. They were coming, they were coming. I just needed to stall him a little longer until they got to us. If Marcus decided to make for those ships and let them know that the ruler of Mercia was here, protected only by a paltry guard, it would be a disaster. I needed to keep him with me, to make him feel like there was enough of a chance that he could take me before the Mercians reached us. As long as those troops were on their boats, we would all be away before they could get back to shore and pursue us.

“That’s why I’m here. The Britons aren’t dying from it and we needed to figure out how,” he explained gently, coming closer and closer, even as the shouts of the men riding on horseback towards us could be heard. They were coming.

“You got what you came for then. What do you need me for? Just go. Leave me here.”

“I can’t. I promised that you would return with me.”

“Promised who?” Who had he planned this with? The council? The praetor? They had killed his father. Why would he have continued to work with them? “I don’t understand… You were lying? From the beginning?”

He shook his head, still edging slowly towards me. “No, that night in the tower… You were right. Calchas planned to have Devyn attack you. My father was brought in to bear witness, but instead he convinced the praetor of a new plan. He persuaded him that if we could discover how they were treating the ill here in the Wilds, he would be able to end the plague in the city. Calchas agreed but only if I brought you back too.”

“How were you ever going to do that? I would never return there. I would never leave Devyn.”

“I know. I think… my father was the one who gave Devyn the poison. I’m sorry, I didn’t know at the time, but it must have been him. It acted slowly enough to allow Devyn to see us north, but quickly enough to ensure that he would not live to see midwinter.”

And without Devyn and my charm I should have all too easily complied with Marcus’s desire to return to Londinium, if only the handfast still worked the same here.

I backed up a little further, swallowing down the bile that threatened to choke me. Another minute, that was all I needed. “So Calchas defied the governor in letting us go? But as soon as we return, Actaeon will have us killed.”

“No, with the medicine to help those afflicted by the Malledictio, Calchas will be more powerful than the governor himself. He will protect us.”

“How could you?” I indicated the broken, bloodied bodies strewn on the cold ground around us. “You exchanged our lives for those of our people.”

“These are not our people,” he sneered. “Our people are dying in