Page 31 of The Bells of Triumph
“They are much less likely to attack if they see there is a woman with ye. So I am going too.”
She didn't give him any room to argue. Pulling on the front of the reins, she led the horse back towards the main road before Connor had managed to think of any response.
“Fine, but stay silent. We dinnae ken whose side they are on. We must be careful with just how much we say.”
Brid nodded, though she didn't like it. It wasn't in her nature to sit by and stay silent, but she trusted that Connor knew what he was doing.
“Turn around and go back the way ye came,” the guard shouted before they even managed to get close to the barricade.
Connor kept moving forward, though he slowed the horse down.
“Who are ye here for?” he asked, his voice casual.
“I am warning ye, the shooters will nae hesitate to let their arrows fly.”
“Connor,” Brid whispered, her voice trembling, “maybe we should turn back.”
The horse took three more steps before Connor spoke again.
“Why are ye here? What has this village done to be closed off like this?”
“One more step and yer lass will die.”
The reins tightened, and the horse stopped immediately. Brid sucked in a shaky breath, her palms clammy against her legs.
“I only ask for information, nae passage.”
“Ye will get neither. Now, do as I say and go back the way ye came. I would hate for something bad to happen to ye or yer lass.”
Connor growled in her ear. His knuckles turned white as he gripped the reins. She counted her heartbeats—one, two, three, four, five, six—then the horse was turning back around.
Neither of them spoke for several minutes. It wasn't until they were almost back at the tavern that Brid managed to find her words.
“What are we going to tell them? They think that the rebels have seized the village and from the looks of it, they are right. How do we explain that Finn is nae working with Seamus?”
“We dinnae. The last thing we want is for them to think that the rebel forces are divided, even if it is true. So we say nothing of Finn.”
“What do we say instead?”
Connor didn't have an answer, nor did he say much of anything when they made it back inside the tavern. The air was still just as thick with tension as it had been when they left. They had been waiting for Brid and Connor to give them a solution, but they had nothing to offer.
“Do ye believe me now?” the woman demanded as Connor settled himself on a barstool. “This is the start of a siege. We are cut off from any food or water. We are going to die. It will only be a mercy for Campbell to send his men in to kill us before we starve.”
“That is nae going to happen,” Brid argued firmly. “The rebels are on yer side. We are fighting for ye. I ken Seamus personally, as does Connor. He would never hurt an innocent, nor would he allow any of the other rebels.”
“Then what is happening? Why are the roads blocked?”
Brid sighed, hating the answer she knew she had to give.
“I dinnae ken,” she told them truthfully. “But,” she called over the roar of outrage, “I ken that panicking will help nay one. I ken that the rebels will nae do anything to harm us. We must stay calm and think rationally.”
She spent the next hour or so repeating the same sentiment. She doled out assurances and smelling salts and tinctures to calm nerves to anyone who would listen to her. Slowly, thetavern started to clear as people left to share the evening meal with their families. She had no doubt that this would be the center topic of conversation in many homes. Yet, every time she glanced over at Connor for help, he had his chin tucked, and his eyes locked on the contents of his mug.
“Care to share yer thoughts?” she prompted, all but collapsing into the stool next to him.
Without having to ask, Cookie slid a mug of her own in front of her along with a steaming bowl of stew.
“These people could have really used yer assurance today. Ye could have told them that everything would be all right. They would have believed it coming from ye.”
