thick, slanting sheets. While the driver kept control of the uneasy steeds, the man riding shotgun jumped down to open the coach door for the Reapers. Huddled in his slicker with rain pouring off the rim of his hat, he gave the warriors a mean look.
“All aboard!” he shouted to be heard over the downpour.
“Guess this is it,” Cynyr said, and snaked an arm around his lady to bring her to his chest. He placed his hand on the soft mound that seemed to have shown up overnight on his lady’s body and rubbed lovingly. “You take care of little…” He frowned. “What are we calling him again?”
“Briton,” Aingeal said with a slow shake of her head. “Then Chastain, Dayton, Ennus, Finian, Galvyn…”
“No. No Ennus,” Cynyr said emphatically. “Too close to penis. Poor kid would have to fight every day of his life. Evan would be better.” He gave her a stern look.
“You be good and stop trying to antagonize the High Lord.”
“He’d best stop trying to antagonize me,” Aingeal replied as her husband nipped at her lips twice before claiming them in a heady kiss that made her toes curl in her boots.
“We don’t have all day, Cree!” Arawn called out but there was no anger in his voice for his lady had suddenly come out to the portico carrying a small wicker picnic basket. Cynyr glanced at the Prime Reaper. “Have you noticed how all of a sudden that man has started to smile?”
“It’s his lady,” Aingeal reminded him. “You smile a lot now too.”
“I do?” Cynyr shrugged. “I guess I do.”
57
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
Danielle came to her husband and extended the basket toward him. “Something for your journey, mo shearc ,” she said. “Pray do not open it until the train is on its way.”
“What’s in it?” Arawn asked, whistling for Glyn to come take the basket on board the coach.
“Just something to tide you over,” she said. When Glyn took the basket from her, she put her arms around her husband’s waist and pressed against him. “I will miss you.”
“As I will miss you,” Arawn said, feeling his heart aching already. He hooked a finger under her chin and tilted her face up so he could kiss her goodbye. It was a chaste, sweet kiss he bestowed for he was cognizant of others watching them. “Take care, a stóirín .”
One last gentle, loving kiss. One last long look into the other’s eyes. One last squeeze of her fingers and the Prime Reaper ventured out in the pouring rain—walking and not running as his men had. He climbed up into the coach, sat down as the door shut behind him and turned to keep his lady in sight for as long as he could. The Prime Reaper looked past their womenfolk and Bevyn to see the Shadowlords standing in the doorway of the Citadel. He nodded to them then directed his words to his second-in-command. “ Is maith an scáthán súil chara ,” he said.
“What does that mean?” Danielle asked.
“A friend’s eye is a good mirror,” Bevyn replied. “He’s bidding me watch over you.”
Danielle lifted her hand and blew her husband a kiss and everyone there was surprised when the Prime Reaper put up a hand and pretended to catch the kiss, placing it over his heart.
“Giddyup!” the driver called out, and the coach rocked back on its hinges before lurching forward.
“ Go raibh an choir Ghaoithe I gcónai leat ,” Bevyn shouted to his fellow warriors as Arawn and Phelan unhooked the rolled window covers and lowered them to keep out the rain.
“May the Wind be always at your back,” Aingeal translated for Danielle. “It is the Reaper’s Creed.”
Danielle watched until the coach was nothing more than a blur in the driving rain. She could feel the coolness of the water peppering her face but she refused to move until all sight of her husband had been taken from her. After taking a deep breath, she turned to Bevyn and put a hand on his arm.
“Will you take me to the infirmary, Lord Bevyn?” she asked. Aingeal and Lea exchanged a
“All aboard!” he shouted to be heard over the downpour.
“Guess this is it,” Cynyr said, and snaked an arm around his lady to bring her to his chest. He placed his hand on the soft mound that seemed to have shown up overnight on his lady’s body and rubbed lovingly. “You take care of little…” He frowned. “What are we calling him again?”
“Briton,” Aingeal said with a slow shake of her head. “Then Chastain, Dayton, Ennus, Finian, Galvyn…”
“No. No Ennus,” Cynyr said emphatically. “Too close to penis. Poor kid would have to fight every day of his life. Evan would be better.” He gave her a stern look.
“You be good and stop trying to antagonize the High Lord.”
“He’d best stop trying to antagonize me,” Aingeal replied as her husband nipped at her lips twice before claiming them in a heady kiss that made her toes curl in her boots.
“We don’t have all day, Cree!” Arawn called out but there was no anger in his voice for his lady had suddenly come out to the portico carrying a small wicker picnic basket. Cynyr glanced at the Prime Reaper. “Have you noticed how all of a sudden that man has started to smile?”
“It’s his lady,” Aingeal reminded him. “You smile a lot now too.”
“I do?” Cynyr shrugged. “I guess I do.”
57
Charlotte Boyett-Compo
Danielle came to her husband and extended the basket toward him. “Something for your journey, mo shearc ,” she said. “Pray do not open it until the train is on its way.”
“What’s in it?” Arawn asked, whistling for Glyn to come take the basket on board the coach.
“Just something to tide you over,” she said. When Glyn took the basket from her, she put her arms around her husband’s waist and pressed against him. “I will miss you.”
“As I will miss you,” Arawn said, feeling his heart aching already. He hooked a finger under her chin and tilted her face up so he could kiss her goodbye. It was a chaste, sweet kiss he bestowed for he was cognizant of others watching them. “Take care, a stóirín .”
One last gentle, loving kiss. One last long look into the other’s eyes. One last squeeze of her fingers and the Prime Reaper ventured out in the pouring rain—walking and not running as his men had. He climbed up into the coach, sat down as the door shut behind him and turned to keep his lady in sight for as long as he could. The Prime Reaper looked past their womenfolk and Bevyn to see the Shadowlords standing in the doorway of the Citadel. He nodded to them then directed his words to his second-in-command. “ Is maith an scáthán súil chara ,” he said.
“What does that mean?” Danielle asked.
“A friend’s eye is a good mirror,” Bevyn replied. “He’s bidding me watch over you.”
Danielle lifted her hand and blew her husband a kiss and everyone there was surprised when the Prime Reaper put up a hand and pretended to catch the kiss, placing it over his heart.
“Giddyup!” the driver called out, and the coach rocked back on its hinges before lurching forward.
“ Go raibh an choir Ghaoithe I gcónai leat ,” Bevyn shouted to his fellow warriors as Arawn and Phelan unhooked the rolled window covers and lowered them to keep out the rain.
“May the Wind be always at your back,” Aingeal translated for Danielle. “It is the Reaper’s Creed.”
Danielle watched until the coach was nothing more than a blur in the driving rain. She could feel the coolness of the water peppering her face but she refused to move until all sight of her husband had been taken from her. After taking a deep breath, she turned to Bevyn and put a hand on his arm.
“Will you take me to the infirmary, Lord Bevyn?” she asked. Aingeal and Lea exchanged a
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