To Be a Spy

Chapter 10

It took some time before Rowen could get the things she needed. She knew that, wearing her maid's disguise, she would be questioned if she tried to pay for passage to Ireland. The small blood stains from her fight with Edward didn't help her look innocent either, not to mention that the whole dress was covered with dirt and wrinkled like she had been on the run from someone. So using the money from a pouch she always carried she brought a dress fine enough not to raise too many questions. She managed to find a boat crossing to the Ireland Emerald, but it sailed the next day. Every delay made her want to tear her hair out in frustration. As time passed, she became more and more aware that William might be living his last moments. But, at last, she was on her way. The voyage gave her time to think out a plan. From what she could remember the Maverick castle, if that was what it could be called, was on the west side of Ireland. Naturally. It normally took four days to get across the island but she hoped she could shorten it to three.

She bit her lip, wondering if William had convinced the guard to believe his story. If anyone could do it, it was him. How she wished he was here with her! She was relieved that he hadn't tried to escape with her, though. She had been so emotional that she had not that she had thought only about getting him out of Great Hall and not of England, as well. There had been no forethought. If it had been a mission Edward would've given her a lecture on her carelessness. Would things ever be normal again? If she cleared William's name that would be a start. If. How she longed to be confident enough to say when. Even if she succeed in dismantling the Maverick army, she might be too late. She didn't want to think about that prospect for too long.

She needed a horse. She might not have enough money to buy one, though. Perhaps she could borrow one. But the Irish wouldn't let an English person near one of their beloved horses. So she would have to purchase an Irish dress. More time. She paced the deck as if by her movement she could make it go faster. Was William even still alive? The question still continued to haunt her. As soon as they docked, she left. Within two hours, she had been outfitted like the Irish nobility she now knew she was. With a stroke of luck, she was able to buy a horse for an excellent price although it had diminished her pile of coins considerably.

Then she was headed west. The horse under her was well-muscled, a blessing since she intended to do some hard riding. Every wasted second could be William's last. All that day she covered ground, being careful not to exhaust her horse so much that it wouldn't be able to go on the next day. But even with her caution, the horse was dripping with sweat after the long ride. She didn't think that she would have enough money to be able to use another horse. She rushed through the preparations to set up her camp as if by getting done quickly would somehow speed up the moon's climb. Looking at the moon she thought of William's words. If I could take the stars and form a necklace with the crescent moon as a pendant it still could not make you more beautiful. She had been told many times before that she was pretty. Disguised as a maid, she had drawn admiring looks and comments from the grooms and footmen. Once on a mission with William, a man had complimented her eyes. William had been furious at the harmless comment. Now she realized he had been jealous. He loved her. It still was almost too much to take in. She leaned back looking at the stars and the moon. How beautiful it was to be loved. She turned over on her side and drifted off to sleep.

The next morning she woke up to the sound of something hitting a tree close to where she was lying. Upon further investigation, she found a boy, eighteen years old, swinging a sword at a tree. Unnoticed, she leaned against another tree, watching him for several minutes.

She cleared her throat and stepped forward. "Your right foot be too far back. Your weight be off-balanced."

He whirled to face her. "Who be you?"

"Someone who knows how to sword-fight."

He gripped the sword tighter. "Tell me who you really be, or I will run you through with me sword."

Rowen held up her hands and let out a laugh. "You wouldna believe me if I told you who I be."

He looked at her, eyebrow raised. "You dona know until you try."

"But I can have a fair idea. But who be you?"

"Ailen. Ailen mac Ahana." Ailen meant handsome. It fit him. He had a pleasant face framed with pitch black hair. Green eyes sparkled, full of the usual Irish fun and mischief.

He cocked his head. "Do you normally walk through the woods and give advice about sword-fighting?"

"This would be me first time."

"But what do you want? Why are you here?"

"May I ask if you, perchance, have a horse I could borrow."

"In exchange for what?"

Rowen fought the urge to sigh. Typical Irish. "Me horse. You can keep him as a guarantee that I will return with yours."

"What is wrong with it?"

She lost the fight and sighed. "There be nothing wrong with it. I only be needing a fresh mount. Do you have such a horse?"

"Indeed I do. I own a fine mare, her name be Heather. But before I promise anything, I wanna see your horse first."

Impatience began to fill Rowen but she made sure not to show it on her face or in her voice. "If you insist." Without appearing to, she hurried Ailen through the motions of showing him her mount.
He looked it over and said, "I suppose we could trade. Wait, when will you return with me horse?"

"I canna say for sure. A week, ten days, I dona know."

"You will take care of her?"

Rowen nodded. "Of course."

He wasn't convinced. "Mayhap I should go with you."

"But I am in a haste."

"I am a good rider. Besides, I can find the fastest way to get anywhere you fancy."

"What about the Maverick Clan? Can you get me there?"

Repulsion flashed across his face. "The Mavericks. Why would a lady such as yourself wanna go there? They are a revolting. And their leader!"

"Leader?"

"Lord Maverick, of course."

Confused, Rowen looked at him. "But I thought the Mavericks didna have a ruler after the disappearance of Orlaith and the death of her parents."

He laughed. "Who be you that you dona know about Donngal Maverick?"

Rowen's mind spun as she tried to think of something that would sound convincing. A bit of advice Edward had said came back to her. If you must lie, stay as close to the truth as possible. You are less likely to get confused and end up contradicting yourself. "I havena been in Ireland for quite a bit of time."

"Where were you then?"

Glancing to the side, she hesitated, then said, "England."

His nose wrinkled in disgust. "Why?"

She shot him a look of annoyance. "Do you always question people you just met so thoroughly?"

He flashed her a grin. "Only with people who I be lending me horse to."

Rowen's patience was beginning to wear thin. "Where be this horse you treat so favorably?

"Follow me."