Dragon Knight's Medallion by Mary Morgan

last tendrils of her emotions.
    Taking the skin, Aileen nodded her thanks and took a swig. “Holy crap!” she gasped, spitting out the foul tasting liquid. “What the hell is this?”
    “’Tis ale,” he replied incredulously.
    She shoved the ale skin back at him. “Well, no thank you. That’s just nasty. I think I’ll go get some water.”
    Before she could even get down, he was holding out another skin. “This one is water, though I ken no other who would choose water over ale.”
    “Well, I do, and I think I’m going to need more than what’s in this,” she stated.
    Stephen shook his head slowly. “Water over ale? We were always told the fae loved their amber liquid...in any form.”
    Aileen gave him a queer look. “Do they? I haven’t asked them lately.”
    She saw something flash in his eyes, but only briefly.
    “I will fetch ye some more.”
    Watching as he went back down to the water, Aileen stared up at the sky. “Oh Goddess, how am I going to get away from this place and gorgeous man?”
    ****
    Osgar stood still, eyes closed...searching. Stephen had not returned after two days, and the air hummed with uneasiness. The men had already started discussing who would venture back to the abbey to search for him. Donal and Fergus were by far the strongest, yet their strength was required here in the hills. He could hear the voices of the women, countering what some of the men were saying. As always, Betha’s voice carried over the rest.
    He opened his eyes, and took in the last rays of light descending over the trees, saying a small blessing of thanks for their continued safety.
    “Stephen is a trained warrior. We should only send one man,” said Osgar, moving toward the small enclosure.
    Betha’s gaze grew troubled. “What about Lachlan? Is Stephen strong enough to face a powerful druid?”
    Her question was greeted with grunts and nods, and Osgar held up his hand to silence them. “True, Lachlan is among them; however, we must all remember Sir Stephen is on a quest. I ken that it is all part of his journey. We must trust in the gods and goddesses.”
    “We trust in your wisdom, Osgar,” uttered a small voice in the back of the crowd.
    Osgar tilted his head, as the people parted to see who had spoken. “Thank you, Ian.”
    Ian smiled back at him and closed his eyes. “He comes and he is not alone.” Snapping his eyes back open, he glanced at his mother. “May I go and greet Sir Stephen and his lady?”
    “He brings another?” asked an astounded Betha. She looked around in disbelief at the others. “I thought we were all here?”
    Cesan stepped forward. “We are. None were left behind.”
    “Ian?” Betha waiting for him to explain.
    Ian just shrugged. “His lady is not from this land. It is all I ken. May I go now?”
    “Aye, but only to the ridge,” sighed his mother.
    Osgar watched the lad run off, then caught Betha’s gaze. “He will need guidance and soon. Will ye be taking him to the council gathering?”
    Betha’s focus was on her departing son. “My heart cannot answer that question, Osgar. Ian’s wisdom is growing every day. There is no more I can teach him. In truth, he is now teaching me.”
    Donal quietly stepped forward and put his arm around her shoulder. “But we ken what is best for the lad.”
    “Aye, we will be taking him to the gathering. There, we will put him in the care of the druid council,” she uttered softly, tears misting her eyes.
    Osgar only nodded. “Donal, I believe Betha has stood far too long. Ye may want to take her back to the fires for some rest.”
    “Do not start to tell my man what to do with me.” Her eyes blazed with fury.
    “Your foot is still swollen, and our journey has just begun,” said Osgar, grateful he was able to focus her back to the present and not on her son.
    “Humph!” She smacked Donal’s hand away when he tried to attempt to help her.
    ****
    Ian tried waiting patiently on the ridge, tapping one foot then another.