The next morning just before sunrise, Celthair dressed in her work clothes, which were still looked rather like a battle dress, and ran down to the service entrance. There was a group of boys looking miserable in the drizzly rain that fell. They had gotten out of their warm beds because of the fear of Celthair, the fact her father was king and the craving to see her again. Never have young boys hearts been so torn. There had been nine boys she had captured but there were now fifteen and she grinned at their stupidity.

“Follow me”, she said, and they quickly fell into a run behind her, doing their best to keep up with her, running as if they were warriors.

They stopped when the suns were fully visible. Half the boys collapsed with pain bought on by the extreme exertion.

“You did not seem this tired when you were creating chaos at the market”, she said.

“Now, pick up a shovel,” they obeyed, and she pointed to a long row of the stables of the Rochad horses.

“I want the stables spotless.” Once I have inspected them and I am happy, you may go.” The boys groaned but submitted.

Celthair went into her own horses stable and began to clear it herself. When the boys noticed that she too was working, doing a job below her state. Each one vowed they would never let her down again. Celthair had won the hearts of these boys. She was indeed the heir to the throne of Athlethan.

After the boys had spread fresh straw for the horses, they left. After the stable hands had thanked her for giving them a long break. She went back to the city, riding on her horse Cethern whom had been her companion since they first left Dun Emain, when she was a young girl. She was looking for a blacksmith that was not busy, to reshoe Cethern’s hooves. She did not use the palace blacksmith, but instead she chose to support the small businesses in the city who worked hard to make a living.

As she approached the busy little trade hub of Athlethan a large muscular man greeted her, a huge smile hidden slightly by a large back beard. “Hello, my princess,” he called. Celthair grinned as she jumped of the horse. “Dear Gormlaith, skilled blacksmith of Athlethan,” she replied affectionately. Gormlaith came over and bent down, picking up one of Cethern’s hooves. “Can you leave him with me for a while? I will get onto this as soon as I can.”

“I know you will look after my horse first, but you must allow those before me to get theirs done before me.”

Gormlaith looked at her with wonder, where was the entitlement that so many people seemed to have these days?

“Do not worry, my dear, you go and do what you must do, I should think it will be ready as the first sun sets”.

Celthair waved and thanked him. Wandering through the trade stalls, smiling, and waving at those who spotted her. When she arrived at the market stalls she stopped and purchased a roll of Trias bread and a cup of Aetherclaw juice. Just as she sat down to enjoy the snack, it began to drizzle so she pulled up her hooded cloak. Just as she did so, a commotion started up at the entrance to the market and three young soldiers on horseback came through the market, causing people to jump out of the way. Celthair was angry and she jumped in front of the horses, causing them to stop suddenly and one of them shied away, snorting with surprise.

The men shouted at her to get out of the way. “Move”, he said “or you will feel my whip.”

She threw back her hood defiantly, revealing her white hair. The man who had spoken stopped.

“My Lady, if I had known it was you…”

Ciaran reddened as he realised his mistake. He jumped down from his horse and bowed.

Celthair feigned anger, “Your disrespect of the people of Athlethan is unwelcome. The way you pushed through the crowd was both dangerous and unbecoming of the reputation of your family”.

Ciaran paled; he had hoped to meet Celthair again but not like this.

“M…m…milady, he stammered. Speechless both from her fury and the affect she had on him.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

He was feeling more and more embarrassed.

“I will not allow this to happen again,” he said.

She suddenly laughed, “Get up stupid”, she said. She offered her hand and pulled him to his feet. He winced as her grip tightened around his hand, pulling him upright. “I was joking, silly,” she said, “Where are you going?” Looking at his two friends who were laughing together at Ciaran’s reddened face. “Not used to that are you, your highness,” they teased. Ciaran threw his friends an annoyed look.

It did take Ciaran a while to regain his composure, but he eventually answered, “Ulric, Seamus, and I are going to the forest to see if we can catch a Coney or two. Ulric can make a mean stew”.

“Can I come”, she asked nodding to Seamus and Ulric.

The three boys looked at each other, Seamus and Ulric nodded eagerly at Ciaran.

Ciaran jumped onto his mount and looked at Celthair, his heart booming in his chest.

“Yes, but where is your horse?”

“Getting shod, but do not worry, I am not heavy.”

With that she leaped up onto Ciaran’s horse and put her arms around his waist. “Let’s go!”

Ciaran froze. This had never happened before. Ulric and Seamus eyebrows rose with surprise and a hint of jealousy appeared in their eyes.

Ciaran shook the reigns, and they trotted off toward the forests of Athlethan.

“Wait”, yelled Celthair into Ciaran’s ear. She leapt down ran to the table she had been seated at and swallowed down the Aetherclaw juice, took a large bite of the Trias bread, broke more off putting it between her lips and jumped back on the horse behind Ciaran, chewing loudly. “Let’s go, she said, this time with a large mouthful of food. Ciaran, rubbed his still ringing ear, raised his eyebrows, shook his head in puzzlement at his torn feelings of admiration and revulsion, and they left.

When they reached the streets, Ciaran and his friends encouraged the horses into a gallop. People that saw her they waved, wondering who the boy was that she was wrapped around. Smiling in pity for the boy that had become the subject of her attention.

They arrived in the forest and split up into pairs, silently searching the forest for tasty conies, small rabbits, their meat sweet and tender.

When Celthair and Ciaran had caught a few, Celthair found a patch of sunlight on a rock and lay down, stretching out and yawned, her eyes closed.

Ciaran stared at Celthair, unsure what to do.

She tapped the rock with her bare hand. “Lie down silly,” she said. “Enjoy the sunshine.”

He complied and placed his hands across his chest, feeling awkward and uncomfortable. He felt her hands moving between them as if she was searching for something. She sat up and looked at him. “There you are,” she said, grabbing his hand. She lay back down her fingers searching for his interlocking fingers, till hers were intertwined with his.

He lay there, still unsure what was happening. She had not told him anything about her feelings, so was afraid to read something into the fact her hand was in his. He could feel her thumb, caressing his hand. It made his chest feel like exploding and his mind was numb with fear and expectation. All he could focus on was her hand, her breathing close to his ear and her smell. Sweet, like sugary Aetherclaw berries.

“Tell me about your home”, she said suddenly.

Then they were talking, they had so much to say. They shared their thoughts and then their feelings came not long after. They sat on the rock, facing each other, their faces close. When they were sitting in silence for a moment, they were looking into each other’s eyes. They both suddenly knew. They were soulmates. Destined to be together. They kissed for a long time and then laughed. It was from happiness and the endorphins that each of them had created in the other.

“My Mother is going to be incorrigible about this,” said Celthair. “It will be like all her dreams for me come true. She just loves your mother and Father. I was hoping to keep up the rebelliousness, so she stays annoyed at me.”

Celthair jumped up. “We should go, it will be dark by the time we get back. My Mother will send out a search party if I don’t come back in time,” she said, rolling her eyes.

After strapping the conies to the saddle, they jumped onto Ciaran’s horse and galloped back to the clearing, Celthair holding Ciaran’s waist tightly, her chin on his shoulder, both of them smiling.

In the clearing there were no longer just two boys and their horses. Holding their horses were two men, two women were standing over the seated figures of a miserable looking, Seamus and Ulrich.

“Here they are, said one of the women. They were tall and muscular, with dark hair and skin. Their accent was thick and different to the people of Athlethan. Their armour was blackened leather, with an almost black patina on their steel armour and swords.

As they approached, the men jumped forward grabbing their horses bridle. The women also leaped forward and pull Ciaran and Celthair off the horse.

“Hey,” said Celthair, “you can’t touch us like this, what do you want?”

Then the men lifted his sword and struck Ciaran on the side of the head, knocking him out cold. They did the same to Ulrich and Seamus. Celthair cried out and furiously kicked at her captors. One of the men lifted his sword, threatening the same to her, but one of the women intervened, restraining his arm from dealing the blow. “Not her pretty face,” she snarled. “We will make less if he sees she was hurt.”

“Who,” she said angrily, “who are you doing this for?” But they ignored her and quickly stuffed her mouth with a rag and tightly gagged her, tying her hands behind her back. They lifted her unceremoniously onto the back of one of their large back mounts, tying her to the saddle then they galloped off into the forest, away from the gates of Athlethan.

Celthair could see Ciaran lying on the ground, blood streaming down his face, she struggled frantically wanting to run to him, watching helplessly as he disappeared into the darkening forest. Then she cried with frustration and fear till she was exhausted and slept, despite the rough ride on the back of the sweating and galloping horse.