Rebel's Knot by Cryssa Bazos

Author:Cryssa Bazos
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: W.M. Jackson Publishing

* * *

The call to evacuate ripped through the camp, and Áine found herself being pulled this way and that.

It’s happening. Again. The English are coming.

Maeve shoved blankets into Áine’s arms while the Triad scooped up all the cooking pots. Meanwhile, Eireen directed the operation with the authority of O’Dwyer himself.

“Pile everything up on that ass,” Eireen called out to the erstwhile urchin who now was helping them upend their world and hurry along with the infantry.

To where? Áine’s mind fumbled wildly. The English were coming. Again. Where could they possibly go that would escape this enemy who hunted them with the tenacity of the sidhe from the Otherworld?

Preserve us all. They’ll be upon us any moment.

They would attack, burn everything in sight. They would kill. Capture. The words of the English soldier, dying at Niall’s feet back at the cottage, came sharp to Áine’s ears. Indentured. Transported to the colonies.

Upended. Torn from Ireland. Upended again and again.

The only safe haven Áine had ever known had been with the Mulrianes, and that had been torn from her. Burned down to ash, blood soaking the ground.

Áine worked as quickly as she could through her mounting fears. She had never thought of the camp as safe, not with all the men and with no connection to rely on except Niall. But until this moment, she hadn’t realised how much she counted on their shielding her from the English.

Was there any place that was truly safe? Áine wanted to curl up into a ball and weep. What was the point of fighting, of running? They would only come again and again. Like Muiredach assaulting her, again and again.

“Áine, hurry.” Maeve dragged her away from the ass. “The lad will take care of that. The herd—we’ll need your help.” She pinched Áine’s arm. “What’s the matter with you?” Maeve’s sharpness cut through Áine’s panic. She spun Áine around, her fingers digging into her arms. “Gather your wits. We need your help!”

Yes, the herd. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine.” Áine dashed after Maeve, running as fast as she could to the cattle pens. She shut out the fear that gripped her heart and focused instead on leading the cows and their calves to safety—she hadn’t been able to save the Mulriane herd, but she wouldn’t let this one fall into English hands.

Donogh’s men led the way deeper into the mountains and helped drive the cows. In the distance, Áine heard the repeated pop of musket fire and the clash of fighting.

“They’re fending them off to give us time,” Maeve called over to Áine.

It was a hurried flight. The terrain grew more treacherous, with dips and gullies and broken land. Dark hills rose on either side of her. The trail narrowed into a slim passageway. It took all their skill to funnel the herd through that narrow stretch. Áine kept looking up, expecting to see the enemy cresting the hills and sealing them within. That had to have been the fear of many of Donogh’s men, for their urgent calls to get moving faster rose sharp in the wind.

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