Time's Dagger by Margot Hovley

Author:Margot Hovley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Covenant Communications, Inc.
Published: 2021-05-11T20:17:37+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

Ailish

At last we saw the rise where the earl’s castle stood, and even our tired horses’ steps freshened at the sight. They knew they were close to a stable and perhaps a bucket of oats. I, for one, could not wait to be off the beast. The pallet in my chamber might be a poor and plain affair, but at the moment, it sounded like heaven to merely lie flat.

“So,” Dillon said, drawing out the word. “We still have four or so more days until Conall gets back, correct? What will you do to keep busy until then? I mean, I know you will be singing for the earl in the evenings, but what about during the day?”

I darted a sideways glance at him. Why did he ask this? Was he perhaps hoping there would be time to spend together? The thought made me smile—and squirm inside. If we did, I feared my feelings toward him would only grow—and that would likely be foolish or dangerous. Or both.

Feelings for an outlander such as Dillon had no place in the plan for my life. Feelings for any man, for that matter, but him especially. The sad truth was that my so-called plans were nearly in ruins anyway. The dagger must save me.

“My studies cannot wait,” I finally replied. “Conall is a strict master and will not be easy with me, even though I am his only student.”

“The only?”

“Not many are interested in the old ways any longer. But something about them captures my heart.” It was true. I loved the mystic stories with a fierceness that surprised even Conall. The flavor of antiquity. The questions without answers. Words of power, when uttered by the druids, that could bless or condemn. The poems that made words sound like pearls looked.

“So no more druids after Conall?”

“We don’t really use the name druid anymore, not since the English came across the waters with their rules and their diseases.”

“But you—you are studying to become one, right? You can carry this on?”

“That is my dearest hope. But becoming a full druid bard takes twelve long years. First I was ollaire, the beginner. Then I became tamhan, the poet’s attendant, and then I will progress to drisac, the apprentice, and on from there. I have twenty stories to memorize and skills to master on the harp before Conall will consider promoting me to drisac.”

“Twelve years!” Dillon cried. “Longer—much longer—than my PA training—uh, I mean my healer training.”

“And it will be impossible to fool Conall long enough to complete the training. Just as with the earl, I will be lucky to get one more year.” Once again, thoughts of my plan to present Conall the dagger made my stomach churn. It had to work! I could think of no other way to remain with Conall longer.

“Okay, then,” Dillon said. “Let me help you.”

I blushed. If Dillon only knew how I actually planned for him to help me. It was becoming harder and harder to imagine the moment when I would have to take the dagger from him.

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