The feel of her slick, sweat-soaked thighs on either side of his hips caused Aed’s fingers to dig into her flesh. His body craved the woman like liquor. As she came down, he strove to punch upward until she sucked in all he gave her. Even then, it wasn’t enough. Aed spread her nether lips and rocked into her again.
“Muirne! My heart’s desire.” And he would fill her…
The sudden awakening had him gulping in deep breaths of the cool night air. Alone, nestled in the bed of furs, Aed gripped his cock so hard it throbbed in his hand. The tryst with Muirne but a dream, he still needed the relief. With a weary sigh, he grabbed his dirty tunic and stroked himself until he spilled.
His insides felt as empty as his sac. Aed reached for the other tunic. Another matter to address somehow.
He dare not think about the chest he left behind in Eire. The spare clothing was not the least of it. A small pouch hidden away inside held a bit of gold coin, something he could use.
Did Grainne or her father go through his things or simply toss the lot on the dung heap? Whichever of them found it first would make a difference. Grainne would have destroyed the contents in anger; her father would not have tossed the lot without a glance. He would investigate.
Outside the communal roundhouse, the chilly air filled his lungs. Above him, patchy clouds raced past. Some weather might be on the way, but it appeared the morn would be bright.
The lower floor where the animals gathered at night needed to be mucked. Ualan had advised him to pile it all in a mound outside when cleaning the area and he did as his friend, the chief’s son, suggested. Come spring, it would be spread on the fields and turned under. It fed the earth, according to his friend.
Before the time to plant came, he would go to Ualan. The other man had given his word to accompany him back to Eire. There was one matter left there to attend to—the abduction of Muirne. Aed did not want to live another day without her.
The beautiful body wasn’t all he craved; Aed had to have all of her. But the expression in Muirne’s eyes when Grainne insisted they wed left him in no doubt as to her anger. Mending the rift would take all his charm and wit. Injured and angry, she might extract revenge and the woman wielded a knife well.
To the east, the sky over the mountains surrounding Glenmore Water turned a lighter hue. A broader, more open valley than that of the Eilan, the land did not disappoint. Torcuil’s description had painted a true picture.
In the faint light of a star-filled predawn, Aed followed the watercourse down toward the river. His other soiled tunic in hand, he sought the pool a short distance away. If he left the garment for Cinnie to clean, she would plague him with comments for days. Aed planned to sink the thing with a stone and let the burn scour the dirt from the cloth.
Bedding Grainne had been a foolish move on his part. Aed regretted it as he did nothing else in his life so far. Even ignoring his mother’s warning against his uncle and the subsequent attempt at assassination paled when it came to Grainne.
He found the pool he sought and, after lifting a large rock from the frigid water, sank the tunic. On his haunches beside the fast-flowing burn, he scooped water and drank. His glance took in the grassy bank even as he listened to the sounds of the land waking.
Never again would he be fool enough to ignore his surroundings. That nearly cost him his life. Aed stood and his gaze followed the path of the watercourse as it made its way toward ultimate absorption in the Glenmore.
Every hand’s-breadth of the land had become as familiar to him now as the place he grew to manhood. A place he would likely never see again. All that bothered him about never looking on his birthplace again was his mother, but she knew he lived and that must suffice.
"Land lost another’s gain,
The old gone for good,
The loss a heavy pain.
Life’s river will move on.
I’ve a fertile new place,
A new day dawns. "
Not one of his best verses, he would not count it the worst. Nonetheless, an adequate description of his mood this morning. Or nearly so. Aed dared not try to compose a new ballad for his heart’s desire.
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