The next day the terrain grew rugged, and the trees were twisted and tortured by the twisting and unpredictable wind that seemed to come from everywhere.

They all turned when they heard the sound of a horse galloping toward them. They put their hands on the hilt of their swords and waited for this new threat to appear.

Celthair sighed with relief. “It’s Dom, she sighed, “he has come as he said he would.”

She trotted the horse forward to greet him.

Dom was tall and dark skinned, he had short curly black hair and was muscular and charming.

He smiled a wide grin at Celthair, and they hugged, leaning over toward each other from their riding position.

“My Lady,” he said, “I have come as promised, I have been this way before, I can be your guide.” As he spoke, he looked into her eyes and her heart felt like it stopped. She looked away and saved her embarrassment by turning away and spinning the horse back toward the others.

Celthair had seen him before, but it was at a difficult time but now, he was unexpectedly appealing and fascinating to her. Her eyes stayed on his for longer than she had anticipated because time was slowed. She looked away and caught the face of Ciaran. When she saw him looking at her, his eyes flashing with jealous anger, she felt guilty.

“I am silly,” she thought to herself, “he has just lost his wife, and I am behaving terribly.” Celthair regained her composure and rode back over to Ciaran. Ciaran was now looking hard at Dom, and Celthair knew what he was thinking. That he was a threat to his feelings and connection with her.

Celthair took his hand and waited for his eyes to meet hers once more. Then she leaped across from her horse to his, sitting astride the horse facing him. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. “Dom is here,” she said, “We grew up together in Imchad, and that’s where we are going.”

Ciaran looked relieved.

She hugged him and over his shoulder she saw Dom, sitting astride his horse, looking into the distance, his face sad and empty.

Empathy for him and then memories of their childhood had flooded back into Celthair’s mind. The times they had together, learning about battle and fighting on horseback. Celthair felt she knew Dom well and they had something that cemented their friendship, even after not seeing each other for years. She remembered they had even discussed getting married when they were young. She knew it was just child play and young love that could be fleeting and temporary. But now the effect it had back then, was back. Celthair pushed out of his embrace and looked at Ciaran, his eyes searching hers questioningly. He was so devoted to her, and his love for her was like the newly fallen snow, fresh and determined. She reached out and clutched his hand, her heart beating hard at the attentiveness he was showing her at this moment. He was determined to show her his loyalty. Celthair felt gratitude and decided that Dom should be forgotten about. She needed what Ciaran was giving her and she needed to show him how thankful she felt for his love and care.

Celthair leaned against Ciaran’s chest and let him hold her tight as they trotted onwards, the horses walking single file along the track toward the north.

Dom, familiar with this road in his search for trade, warned them that the territory they were entering came with some dangers. They needed to avoid running into the giants that lived in these mountains. They were the Emim. Cousins of the Anakim. Violent and greedy, they took what they wanted and killed for it. Thankfully Dom knew how to avoid meeting them.

As their horses trotted along, Dom talked, eager to share his thoughts after losing Gretta. He knew nothing of Celthair’s awakened feelings but was aware that Ciaran did not seem to like him. His short gruff replies and the way he avoided conversation attested to that. He put it down to the fact he did not know him yet. Dom could not understand why, as he was open and trusted people quickly. He shrugged and decided to ignore it.

They crested a rise and saw before them the sea. It was a light turquoise colour, and the view took their breath away. It was the Chalice Sea, azure waters lined with white sand. Along the shore groves of trees with large arcing fronds in shades of bright greens.

Celthair arrived first and stopped to gaze upon it, taking in its detail. The events of the previous day had been weighing on her and the view she was taking in restored her soul. She had felt lifeless. She knew what needed to be done but it was almost automatic. Without a feeling of joy or peace. But now the energy of peace flowed through her and the weight of the burden she had lifted for a while, The sword Mac Roth no longer felt heavy on her hip.

The others arrived behind her and silently they looked on with her.

Mags couldn’t allow the silence, and she spoke. “Amazing!” she breathed. Everyone responded with a loud “Quiet…” and Mags being Mags said, “But I…” and then fell silent to a disapproving stare from Ciaran. Appreciating suddenly the reverie the others were in.

The wind suddenly increased from behind them, and clouds went across the sun, breaking their trance. Celthair looked behind them.

“It seems we missed that!” she said. They all looked and saw an approaching storm, ominous and purple in colour, flashes of lightning preceded it, and it was moving fast. The wind arose and the storm was upon them, lashing them with rain as they hurried along. Celthair cursed for allowing them to be caught out like this. They would now no longer be able to build a fire or set up camp. They were in for a long night of travel, unless the rain stopped, and they could make a fire. But the rain did not cease, they could make out the path in the flashes of light which were frequent. The thunder was tremendously loud, and the horses whined in fright, prancing about, unable to be calmed by their riders. They sat huddled under their hooded cloaks and continued on as best they could. The road continued downward and then levelled out, making a slow curve to the left. It was the middle of the night before they came across a valley which narrowed slowly into a ravine. Along the path a river appeared beside them, roaring through the ravine. Thankfully they reached a part of the track that went under the cliff face, where the rain did not reach. Ciaran found a stockpile of wood and soon had a fire. They huddled around it, warming themselves while Ciaran unsaddled the horses and hobbled them. There was also some hay pushed in an alcove in the rock and soon they were contentedly chewing.

The storm continued to roar, and the river far below the path they were on, could be seen now, as it rose, the water became white as it rushed rapidly through the ravine. But the sound did not deter them. They were all exhausted.

“We must rest,” said Celthair, “I will keep the first watch, I will wake Mags, and she will keep the second.”

“I’ll be the third,” said Ciaran, sitting down next to Celthair.

She shuffled over and sat between his legs, pulling his arms around her, and lay her head back on his shoulder.

In the firelight Celthair was looking at Dom, and his face flashed disappointment as Ciaran kissed her on the ear. Then she understood.

Mags had been watching Dom since he arrived. She was intrigued by his dark skin and black hair. But for the first time in her life, she had been too shy to approach him, a new experience for her. She felt mildly annoyed that her best friend was getting the attention of two men and the one she wanted to meet hadn’t really looked at her at all. It was not something she was familiar with. She always got the attention of boys back home. She felt a little jealous and resentful.

The others all unwrapped their beds and went off to sleep leaving Celthair and Ciaran alone, staring at the warm fire and the steaming cloaks now drying before it.

Celthair turned her head and looked in Ciaran’s eyes. “I am glad you are here with me,” she said, “I never thanked you for following me here, so thank you!”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Ciaran grinned as she kissed him on the lips. “I’d do it again for just one more kiss like that,” he murmured.

“No need,” said Celthair, “You are too adorable and tempting for me to resist.” She turned and kissed him hard, causing Ciaran to fall back. Ciaran held her tight, feeling her against him, warm and inviting. The worries and dangers of their journey forgotten.

Dom watched them and suddenly felt like he was intruding, he turned over and thought about Gretta, tears running down his cheek. He missed her dreadfully. Tinges of jealously arose in his chest when he saw Ciaran and Celthair together. But he soon slept heavily, unaware but not wary of what the morrow would bring on them all.

Celthair awoke, sleep slowly dissipated as she became aware of their surroundings, completely different to the darkness they had seen around them in the night. Ciaran groaned and moved, they were in each-other’s arms and till he moved she did not even realise, so long had they been sleeping in the same position. They unravelled and shared a last-minute kiss before they were exposed to the fresh morning air and the cold crept in, causing them to shiver and wish they were back under the covers.

They all stood on the edge of the path, stretching and taking in the grand view before them, of the ravine and the sheer rock walls, covered in green vines and hanging plants that hung down, nearly reaching the still roaring water. There was a mist that clung to the plants and even though the rain had stopped continued to drip so that it still looked like rain.

Dom turned and looked upstream; he couldn’t believe their luck. A mountain goat appeared from around the corner and stopped, staring at them in alarm. Dom did not hesitate he took his bow and fitted an arrow speedily firing, killing it before its muscles clenched to prepare to spring away. Breakfast was provided and they ate well, feeling ready for whatever the day would bring.

Soon the horses were saddled, and they made their way slowly through the cold, moisture laden air along the path at the base of the ravine. When it reached its narrowest point, it suddenly widened, and the fast-flowing water gushed out into a large lake. They made their way around the edge of the lake and the land spread out before them into a large valley in the middle of the mountains that surrounded them like distant walls. There were forests and as they rode up a hill it was revealed to them that the lake fed a wide and meandering river. Off into the distance.

Dom suddenly shouted for them to stop. They all looked to where he was pointing. A pillar of smoke rose in the cold and still morning air, off in the distance to the southwest.

“Emim,” he said, “The giants; We must be careful to bypass them and not be seen. We should get to the mountains fast, over there.” He pointed to the North. “We go there and then head west.”

They encouraged the horses into a canter, hoping they would not be spotted by any of the Emim.

“Why do we need to avoid them?” asked Mags.

Celthair and Ciaran didn’t seem to hear her, but Dom did. His horse moved closer to hers and he smiled at her.

“Hi,” he said. “Hi,” she replied blushing slightly.

“I know you are Mag’s to your friends, but I’d like to know how to address you properly Milady.”

“Mairghread daughter of Tethra and Devorgill of Esclarmonde,” she replied, feeling a little more confident.

Dom smiled and nodded, his eyes not leaving hers.

“The Emim are giants and quite territorial. A little violent toward strangers and nothing like their cousins, the Anakim which are gentler and more kind. Sometimes they will see you and ignore you. But other times they will attack just to make a meal of your horse or for your sword, just to use it as a toothpick. So, we will try not to be seen, just to reduce the risk.”

Mags listened in silence and when he had finished, they rode side by side, contemplatively.

“Does that answer your question,” he asked after some time had passed.

Mags looked at Dom and nodded.

“If we see them, do we get the horses to run?” she asked.

“We will only run if they look like attacking us. If we run it looks like we have something to hide to them. It’s best to not look fearful at all.”

Mags looked around and into the distance, afraid she would see some Emim, looking at them from the rocks.

They made their way further Northward, slowly turning toward the north-west on the narrow path they followed. As they approached a valley Celthair stopped her horse.

“Something is not right; I have a bad feeling.”

Dom too, had stopped and was looking at the large boulders up the side of the hill from their position in the valley below.

On the other side was a small forest of trees.

They all froze in fright as there was a horn, a very loud one, blown from the direction of the trees.

Out of the trees came running, thundering along because of their enormous lumbering strides, a fierce row of Emim giants over one hundred of them, maybe more. They were not running toward them but toward the front of them where they had been going.

Then almost instantaneously after the horn blast, from the other side rose more giants from behind the largest boulders, about a hundred of them. Looking a little less fierce and more familiar to Dom and Celthair. They also ran down the hill toward the attacking giants.

They clashed in a massive cacophony of noise, shields meeting with swords and giants crashing into one another falling over and roaring loudly.

“A battle,” said Dom “Emim and Anakim.”

They could do nothing, to try and assist the Anakim would have been suicidal. They decided to ride up the hill behind the boulders and watch from the top, to see the outcome of the battle and make a run for it should the Anakim lose.

The Anakim looked better trained, and their fighting technique gave them the upper hand. The Emim used brute force and tried to overcome the Anakim, but their attacks failed, their massive hammers and axes moving slower than the Anakim swords. Where they swung the axes only found empty air or the ground. The momentum of their swings throwing them off balance.

The Emim were losing and four of them left the few that were left and ran up the hill toward where Celthair and her company were sitting on their horses.

They moved away from the path the Emim were travelling on toward them, but it did not change the fact that the giants had them in their sights and looked to be stalking them. They began to move the horses quicker and they rode quickly along the top of the hill till they found a path back down toward the road. The Emim were fast, faster than the horses could travel on the rocky ground. It was not long before the four giants reached them, eying off their horses hungrily.

“Go ahead,” said Ciaran to Celthair and Mags, jumping off their horses and giving the reigns to Mags, “Dom and I will slow them down so you can get to the road and get away, we will follow you later.”

“There is no way,” said Celthair. “That I am letting you die alone.”

“Go,” said Ciaran helplessly, you have a mission and a destiny.”

But it was too late, as Mags rode on with the horses the giants were upon them. They drew their swords and waited.

“This is going to get nasty,” said Ciaran. “Keep alert, move fast!”

The first giant leaped toward them, swinging his massive axe toward them.

They easily moved away as the axe smashed into a rock, glancing off it in a shower of sparks.

The giant looked surprised to see how fast them moved and as he lifted his axe to swing again, grunted in pain and looked even more surprised as the tip of a sword appeared from his chest. He put his finger on the point, looking puzzled and then his eyes glazed over, and he toppled forward, dead. Dom appeared as it fell, standing on a rock behind where the giant had blocked the view from the others a moment before, his sword bloody.

The other giants arrived moments later and swung in a similar fashion at Dom, but he dodged their swings and then Ciaran, choosing his timing wisely, darted in and slashed a giant’s throat, before he could lift his hammer again. That giant fell too.

The other two giants roared in fury and came at them. One swung in a broad stroke at Celthair, and she had to jump over the axe to avoid being hit. The momentum took the axe in almost a full circle around the giant and seemed to take some time to do it. Ciaran took the opportunity and ran, using a rock as a spring to leap toward the giant, his sword swinging as he did so. He missed and his body met the face of the giant in a midair collision, knocking the Emim monster off balance. He fell backwards and at the same moment, Celthair ran forward, driving her sword deep into the giant’s eye socket. The Emim goliath, screamed and then gurgled, collapsing where he lay.

Then suddenly another Emim, swung his massive hand and knocked her off her feet, before she hit the ground, she was unconscious. The remaining Emim, three of them, picked her up and ran.

As this all happened, the victorious Anakim arrived and took down the last giant as he attempted to attack Dom. Dom had barely escaped a swing, he had heard the hammer swish past his head, so close he felt his hair contact it and the air movement it had created.

Ciaran, exhausted turned and saw Celthair’s form, carried like a rag doll, in one of the giants’ arms. He tried to speak, but the wind was gone from his lungs, he took some running steps after her, but he collapsed painfully to his knees.

They all stood panting, trying the get their breath, the Anakim looked at them in wonder also taking some time to recover. This lasted quite a long time before one of them spoke.

But only Dom could understand what the giants were saying them having lived there many years before. It was Dom who stepped forward, speaking with them in their strange guttural dialect. Their voices were deep and resonant, pleasant to the ear. After some discussion and the giants’ their eyes widening at the things he was telling them, then bowing towards Ciaran and Mags.

Ciaran could still see the surviving Emim, running across the plain, toward the smoke of their city on the distance. Finally, his breath returned, and he shouted over the discussion between Dom and the Anakim.

“We need to help Celthair,” he cried out. “If they get to the city, we may never see her again.”

Upon hearing the name, one of the massive men, leaned in.

“That name,” he said. “Say it again.”

“Say her name again”, translated Dom.

“Celthair,” he pointed, “That’s Celthair they have. Daughter of Tuatha, king of Athlethan.”

Upon hearing the two names, The Anakim giant barked a command. Immediately they roared in anger began to run after the escaping Emim, who were carrying Celthair across one of the soldiers’ broad shoulders.

Mags had bought back the horses, and they all mounted them and began to urge the horses after the fast-running Anakim.

To Ciaran the ride seemed eternal, the feeling in his chest of the loss of Celthair had awakened deeper feelings. Deeper than before, when she had been captured by the Dark soldiers, back in Athlethan. He felt physically sick, and feared what the Emim would do to her.

But it was too late, they arrived within view of the city gate, a city with massive walls. The surviving Emim, disappeared through an open gate that slammed shut after them and Celthair, still unconscious, disappeared from their view.