Morrigan (14 page)

“You will never take me back there!” he
cried.

“Tiarn,” she said slowly, warily. “You must
have been dreaming. It’s just me. Morrigan. I’m not going to hurt
you. And you don’t have to go anywhere if you don’t want to. Just
try to calm . . . humph.”

She had gingerly reached out her hand to
comfort him, but he must have seen the simple gesture as a threat.
With a single leap, he sent her sprawling to the ground for the
second time that evening. She was too shocked to think about
defending herself, not that she would ever be able to use her
powers against him anyway. He obviously had no idea what he was
doing. Though he snarled and snapped in her direction, his glazed
and feverish eyes looked beyond her and into some horrible memory
in his past.

“Put that whip away or I’ll tear your head
from your shoulders!”

He was starting to sound less and less human
with every word. He leapt forward, very nearly landing on top of
her. He peered down, breathing heavily, a low rumble still
emanating from his throat. His face continued to morph, becoming a
strange combination of man and animal. The stubble on his chin grew
longer, and his fingernails were lengthening to pointed claws.
Morrigan didn’t dare speak again. She was sure she was about to
discover exactly what a lycan looked like after the transformation,
only to die at its hands. Tiarn leaned in closer to her, his mouth
lingering dangerously close to her neck. She closed her eyes,
waiting for the end, when out of nowhere, Danu and Dagda came to
her rescue.

The cats leapt from the trees and were
already transformed before their paws hit the ground. In seconds
they had Tiarn cornered against a patch of trees. He snapped and
snarled in their direction, and they hissed and roared in reply.
Feline and canine were about to have the inevitable face off, and
Morrigan knew Tiarn would stand no chance against her faithful
companions in his weakened condition. She jumped up from the
ground, terrified they would tear him to pieces before she could
stop them.

“Danu! Dagda! No!” she ordered them down just
as they were about to pounce. “Don’t touch him. He’s sick. He
doesn’t know what he’s doing!”

Judging by the annoyed look they gave her,
the cats didn’t consider that much of an excuse. Nevertheless, they
obeyed their mistress and stood in front of her protectively. Tiarn
had crouched down against a tree, eyeing them all warily. As his
gaze flicked back and forth between her and the cats, a little
rationality started to return. Gradually, the pointed fangs and
claws receded, and his eyes, though still glazed from fever, lost
their animalistic hue.

“Morrigan?” At first he still seemed
confused, but the confusion quickly turned to anguish and shame. He
covered his face so she couldn’t see the small traces of the wolf
that remained. “Oh, Goddess, what have I done? This cannot be
happening . . . not again!”

Morrigan tried to comfort him. “It’s okay,”
she said. “Nothing happened. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Nothing happened? Are you a damn fool,
woman? Do you not know when you should be afraid?” He pounded the
ground with his fist. “You should have stopped me! You should have
set me aflame. Or let your wretched felines have their way with me!
Or anything . . . anything to stop . . . this . . . .” He gestured
to his own body as though it disgusted him. “Oh, Morrigan, do you
not see? I could have . . . I could have killed you!”

He shuddered and covered his eyes, filled
with regret and despair. Before she could say anything else to
reassure him, he suddenly clutched his abdomen. He leapt from the
ground and ran to a patch of bushes where he quickly deposited the
contents of his stomach into the foliage. Long after his belly was
empty, he continued to gag and heave. Even though she expected to
be rebuked, Morrigan tiptoed to his side and laid a comforting hand
on his shoulder. She rubbed his back as he retched. He didn’t push
her away, but he didn’t acknowledge her either. Finally, after what
seemed like an eternity, he fell to the ground, sweaty and
exhausted.

“Tiarn,” she whispered when she thought he
was somewhat recovered. “You’re sick. We need to get you some
help.”

“Nonsense,” he said as he wiped his mouth on
his sleeve. “It was only that poison you call food that did not
settle right in my stomach. I am fine now.”

Morrigan shook her head. “It’s more than
that, and you know it. Your arm must be infected.” He refused to
meet her gaze and started making designs in the dirt with a stick
he picked up. “You have a fever. That’s why you didn’t know what
you were doing.”

“Do not make excuses for me!” He hurled the
stick into the forest. “Do you have any idea what I could have done
to you? There is a reason why the wolves are eternally cast as the
villain in the fables of your world!”

Despite the harshness of his tone and the
bouts of anger she had witnessed, she believed underneath it all,
Tiarn had a gentle, loving soul. She had seen it in her dreams long
before she met him in the flesh. She had watched him fight, never
casting a fatal blow. The fact he was so filled with remorse proved
it beyond a doubt in her mind. She just didn’t know how to make him
believe it.

“You would never hurt me,” she insisted.

“Are you sure of that, little princes?” he
whispered. “Are you sure I won’t eat you up?” He laughed
humorlessly at his own bad joke, then moaned and retched again.

“We can’t keep going until you’re better,”
Morrigan fretted. “You can’t travel like this.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Tiarn said. He was all
business again and acting as though nothing had happened. “I will
be fine. It is not safe to stay here any longer. The soldiers will
come back this way eventually, and we are low on supplies. We will
have to stop in the next village. Normally, I would hunt.”

“But you’re too sick?” Morrigan pressed.

“No, Princess.” He raised an eyebrow. “I was
going to say it will take too long, especially with the storm
coming.”

As if on cue, the dark sky suddenly opened
up, releasing a gentle splattering of small drops that eventually
settled into a light mist. A flash of lightning lit the sky above
them, and thunder rumbled, sounding much louder than it had
earlier. Morrigan pulled out her cloak and wrapped it tightly
around her shoulders. Tiarn did the same, though his covering
looked the same as his animal skin sleeping roll, with the
exception of the hood. He gestured for her to follow him through
the dense forest, and she didn’t know how she could argue with him
anymore. They had to find shelter from the rain. It couldn’t be
good for him to be out in the damp when he was already so ill.

“If you insist on going, at least do me a
favor and take a few of these.”

She shuffled through her bag to find the
aspirin and the bottle of her foster brother’s antibiotics. She had
tossed them in her bag as an afterthought, but now it seemed more
like providence had been on her side. She fumbled to open the
containers and handed Tiarn the pills along with a bottle of fresh
spring water. It had to be better than the stagnant water sitting
in his canteen. He stared at her like she had three heads.

“What I am supposed to do with these
pebbles?”

Morrigan would have laughed, but she was too
worried. “You swallow them. It’s penicillin. And something to help
bring down your fever. It will hopefully stop the infection from
getting worse.”

Tiarn snorted. “First leaches and now
pebbles. I wonder how these supposed medicine men do not kill all
their patrons.”

“I promise you these pills will make you feel
better.” Unless he’s allergic, she thought to herself and then
pushed the pessimistic thought away. The universe wouldn’t be that
cruel. “Please, Tiarn, just trust me and take them. I couldn’t
stand it if something happened to you because of me.”

She must have looked more stricken than she
realized, because Tiarn took pity on her. “I will eat your magic
pebbles if it pleases you,” he whispered. He swallowed the pills
and washed them down with the whole bottle of water. “If only to
make amends for the way I behaved when you woke me. You do know,
Morrigan, that I would never hurt you intentionally.”

“I know that, Tiarn.”

“But,” he insisted, “should you ever find me
in that state again, if you see even a hint of the wolf, you must
promise me you will run. Run far and run fast, and if you cannot
run, do whatever you must to stop me.”

“I don’t believe you’re a monster,” she told
him. “No matter what you say, I’m not afraid of you.”

He looked at her sadly. “Oh, but you should
be, my innocent, little Morrigan. For my wolf side has killed
before, and I live in constant fear it will kill again.”

They were definitely not moving as quickly as
they normally did. Tiarn always set the pace, and Morrigan usually
had to jog to keep up with him. That day, he was moving so slowly
that, had she known the way, she could have easily pulled ahead. It
made her worry so much she almost forgot all about her own sore
feet and travel weary body. The steady rain didn’t help to make
things any more pleasant. Her heavy cloak kept her reasonably warm,
but it weighed her down. She was damp and uncomfortable as she
waded through the endless puddles of mud that dotted the forest
floor. She could only imagine how Tiarn must have been feeling if
she was so miserable. Despite his half confession, she still felt
concern for him. If he was trying to shock her, it didn’t work. She
knew in her heart he wasn’t a killer. She just wasn’t sure why he
would want to make her think he was.

Morrigan trod through an especially deep
puddle, and the cats meowed in protest when she splashed them with
muddy water for what must have been the hundredth time that day. It
seemed like they had been traveling forever, and she was just about
to ask Tiarn how much farther they had to go when she heard voices
in the distance. Not the gruff voices of the hardened foot
soldiers. Instead, she heard the light laughter of children
playing, adults chatting, and merchants bantering. Even the steady
rain didn’t keep the native folks from going about their
business.

“The village is just ahead,” Tiarn announced,
confirming her guess. “You shall wait here. I will . . . I will . .
. .”

He swayed as he tried to unsuccessfully
complete the thought. The little color he had quickly drained from
his face, leaving him pale and white lipped. Morrigan ran to his
side and caught him around the waist just before his legs gave out
on him completely. She wasn’t strong enough to hold him up, but she
was able to keep him from a hard fall to the ground. She struggled
to pull his half-conscious body to the relative safety of a patch
of wild brush and leaned him up against a tree for support. He
looked dazed and incoherent. She put her hand to his forehead, and
she had no idea how he had made it as far as he had. She had no
thermometer, but if she had to venture a guess, she would say his
temperature had to be no less than one hundred and three degrees
and would have been ever higher if he hadn’t taken the aspirin.

“You’re really burning up,” she fretted. “We
have to get you out of this rain. Do you think little village would
have an inn or somewhere else where we could spend the night?”

“N-no, Morrigan,” he half mumbled in reply.
“You mustn’t let them see you. It is too dangerous.”

“Let who see me?” She thought he might have
been babbling again. “How would anyone there know who I am?”

Despite his miserable condition, he gave her
a small smile. “Love, you would stand out in this realm no matter
what clothing you wore. The way you speak, the way you walk . . .
anyone would know you are . . . special. By now, the whole of the
kingdom will be searching for the maiden from another world who
travels in the company of a werewolf and two Guardians. It is not
safe for you to enter the village, especially when I am
incapacitated.”

“But, Tiarn, we can’t stay here all night,”
she insisted. “And you’re too sick to keep going.”

“I am afraid I cannot deny that fact any
longer.” He sighed and leaned his head against the tree. “I will
never make it to the castle, Princess. You will have to leave me
here and continue your journey on your own. Your quest is too
important to jeopardize. It does not matter what happens to
me.”

“No! Don’t even say that! I won’t just leave
you here to die, Tiarn. I can’t!” Morrigan cried. “It does matter!
It matters to me!”

“There is no other way,” he argued. “And not
just because I will slow you down. I am losing control, Morrigan. I
feel my humanity slipping away. If the wolf takes over . . . .”

“It won’t,” she told him. “And I won’t leave
you here. I don’t believe you would hurt me, Tiarn. And I swear, if
you give me any grief about this, I’ll turn myself over to the
first guard I see.”

“No! You would not do such a foolish thing.”
He seemed honestly stricken, and she was glad. It meant she had
gotten her point across.

“Of course I would, and I will. You don’t
want to test me.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I can be
very stubborn when I want to be. Now, is there an inn in that
village? I need a place where I can take care of you properly.”

Tiarn still looked a little shocked. “Yes,
but how will you . . . how can we . . . there is no way to escape
detection!”

“You don’t give me much credit,” Morrigan
huffed. “I’m a lot smarter than I look. You said they would be
looking for a maiden. Well, what to do you think about this . . .
.”

Morrigan pulled and tugged at the corset
strings of her dress, making them as loose as possible. Then she
took out an extra pair of stretch pants she had brought. She rolled
them into a ball and shoved them underneath her dress. With a
little adjusting, she was able to make the perfect sized bulge
right in the center of her abdomen. She used the cord to secure it
in place. When she was finished, she looked at least four or five
months pregnant, which was a little scary when she was only
seventeen. She supposed teenage pregnancies were more acceptable in
this old-world environment.