===PART #2 ==== Blood Oath =============

Fergus was now aboveground in the practice field with Cat and Tully and the 
assorted wanna-be defenders. In Conor's absence, he had arranged the days' exercises. 
Since he couldn't yet participate, due to his recent wound, he took great satisfaction 
in yelling at others for every little error he saw. Also, the fact that Conor a
nd Molly were STILL *busy* at nearly midday, left him a little disconcerted. 
He WAS a Da. 
"You there!" pointing to a young man about to impale himself with a pike, 
"You're not at a fair lad...careful now... throw it INTO the target!" shaking his 
head in disbelief. "With this group we'd be lucky not to get massacred in an hour..."
"They are trying their best, you yelling every minute doesn't help. 
Try encouraging them, set an example." offers Catlin, stringing another 
arrow in her bow.
"Look there, Sweet Bridgit!" points at another man hacking away with a sword, 
his opponent countering from the ground clearly outmatched. He runs over to them, 
"Stop it! We're not here to kill each OTHER! Technique lads, not swing 'til 'ya drop!" 
he yells.
Suddenly a small cheer erupts from the field as men stand looking towards 
the Sanctuary entrance. Conor was striding towards them, a definite bounce 
to his step. Hearing the cheer he grins ear-to-ear, blushing red. In a small 
copse nearby, the leader of the armed band is crouched low with his men. The 
messenger held silent with a hand across the mouth and a dagger to his throat.
"Is that him?" whispers the leader, pointing to Conor striding alone across the field. 
The messenger nods carefully, mindful of the dagger. Sitting back on his haunches, 
the leader smiles.
*******************************
"Well it's about time lad... thought you'd forgotten your OTHER duties..." teases Fergus,
noticing the glow about his young charge. Conor, grinning but ignoring the tease,
 "I see you've got them practicing. Any casualties yet?"
"Nearly, they have the drive this lot...just a little thick-headed in carrying out orders."
"I'm sorry ta' be late."
"No you're not."
"Well, it was for a good cause."
"MY daughter is only a "good cause"?
"No, she's a sight more than that." with a grin.
"Stop it you two!" yells an exasperated Catlin. Mumbling and muttering 
Fergus walks off, 
"First thing in the morning... in the light of day...not enough of it at night..."
"Molly is up too?" asks Cat innocently.
"Aye, she's helping with a sick child has a fever. The mother's heavy with 
another child near due." He surveys the field of men, back to their practice.
"That's good of her. We're lucky to have someone else with healer knowledge among us."
Conor, glancing to his feet, his face flushing, 
"Cat, I wanted to ask. How does all this with Molly and me... I mean...
what do you... oh, never mind." Catlin smiles and takes his hand in hers squeezing gently.
"I'm pleased for you Conor. I hope you both find great joy in each other. 
I've even said a prayer to my Savior for your happiness together" she smiles
reassuringly, pleased that he cared how she felt. 
"We're still great friends, aren't we?"
Looking into her eyes and speaking softly, 
"Always Cat. And I thank you for the prayer."
Just then shouting Fergus goes storming by, after another poor soul about 
to kill himself. Conor and Cat stand there laughing at the sight. 
******************************
Longinus was in a pique. Striding through the Roman keep in a great flourish of 
robes and anger, all men stood away at his approach. The wretch Kellen had not 
even been here! Robbed again of fulfilling his plans, he was furious and looking 
to vent the rage on someone--anyone! Diana, judiciously remained at a safe distance, 
watching from a high vantagepoint in the tower above. 'Could Kellen not yet have 
found Conor? Time enough had passed -- surely!' she thought. 'Where could the oaf 
Kellen be?' then sudden clarity dawned on her - the Sanctuary! That must be it, 
maybe captured?' she mulled this over, becoming more certain as instinct guided her. 
'How to tell Longinus that I know where the Sanctuary is? He'll be furious that I 
haven't said so earlier...?' A huge crashing noise sounded from below, startling 
many horses and sending them stampeding. 'I must direct him away before he destroys 
the fort - but how?' Longinus had just thrown some unfortunate fools across the corral. 
The physical exertion allaying his anger, he glances up towards Diana and makes contact 
with her eyes. 'She's up to something' he thinks, seeing uncertainty and then caution 
reflected in her eyes and posture.
*******************************
As dusk approaches another day at the Sanctuary, the tired men gather their weapons 
from the practice field and return down the stairway. Fergus and Conor bring up the 
rear of the group. Fergus was exhausted from all his *supervising* this day, his 
throat raw from shouting. Conor was exhausted from, well, you know...he HAD put some 
time in on the field with the others as well. A hunting party was also returning and 
seeing Conor hails him over. 
"We found this poor wretch in the wood near here on our 
way back. He's still alive, but I doubt for long." speaks one man lowering a bloody 
body down from his horse to Conor. 
"Hurry, get him inside to the healer" orders Conor, 
taking the man's head and shoulders.

Molly and Mother Ceridwen were tending the injured man. He had multiple knife wounds 
and was weak from loss of blood. Struggling to stay awake he spoke in mumbled fragments.
 Conor and Fergus stood aside, out of the way looking on. The man happens to recognize 
Conor nearby and frantically starts to motion to him, nearly choking. 
"He wants you Conor" says Molly, glancing to him. Kneeling near the man, 
he can barely hear the words, 
"Morgan ...Romans...killing..." he chokes for several minutes, gasping for air. 
"Sending to kill..." he manages, grabbing Conor's vest, he pulls himself up a 
few inches, "...kill... YOU...oath..." the man falls back, a last gasp and he's gone. 
Standing, brow knit in concern, he turns to Fergus, 
"Kill me did he mean? He said Morgan." Realization dawning, he grabs the elder by the arms, 
"Easy! Me arm!" warns Fergus. "The only oath I know of connected to Morgan 
is the blood oath between Morgan and my father. Remember? So... he still holds to the 
blood oath? Even after my Da lies dead?"
Fergus nods, 
"He has known about your Da dy'in and that YOU still live for months now. I thought 
he'd taken some sense and decided to forgive the oath. After all he hadn't attacked 
King Derek since the last time nearly seven years ago."
"I remember that, I was twelve and ready to defend my family. Then you came along 
and locked me in the ale cellar until it was all over."  
"Somebody had to hold you back - Sweet Bridgit - you were fired up hotter'n the sun! 
With no sense to 'ya!" Fergus again agitated at the memory.
"My Da, brother and cousins all fighting and me pound'in on a cellar trapdoor 
through it all. You should've let me fight Fergus." Molly listening smiles at that. 
The thought of her husband at twelve, an eager, young warrior. 
'He's not changed much' she thinks to herself.
"He also mentioned Romans...Diana?"
Again Fergus nods, "The nape of me neck is standing up just think'in about it."
"And he said 'sending to kill' But would that be Diana or Morgan?" he asks worriedly.
"We don't even know this man, maybe it's all a lie."
"If I were dying, I wouldn't be lying" Conor states with finality.
*********************************
Outside the Sanctuary in the ever-deepening darkness, the small armed band waits. 
No fires are lit and human & animal noises are kept to a minimum. Their leader, 
Kellen sits under an old oak, relishing the thought of the power soon to be his. 
All he need do is bring to these Romans what they ask. Then the power will be his. 
He would rid himself of his father, take control of the entire Clan Holding 
and effectively live like a god. All this with only one curly blond head. 
Smiling, he settles down to a light nap, letting his subconscious work on a 
plan to get Conor aboveground and alone.
*********************************
Fergus and Conor conferred for a short while more. Fergus still not convinced that 
the man was even truthful. The younger man insisting that they at least remain extra 
vigilant for a few days, pointing out that where Diana may be concerned, you couldn't 
be too careful.
Agreeing with this, the elder went off to find some ale before turning in for the night.
Still wondering about it all, but not overly concerned, Conor finds Molly by the 
communal campfire, speaking with Catlin. They both see him starting to walk to them 
and abruptly stop their conversation. A small awkward silence hangs in the air. 
Conor looks to each woman in turn and both burst out laughing, embarrassed.
"What's this?" he asks, eyebrows arching. Catlin catches her breath answering him,
"We were just talking... you know...about woman things." Both again burst into laughter. 
Molly holds her stomach and sits down before she falls down. Catlin hugs her 
across the shoulders, their heads bent together, each trying their best to subdue 
themselves. Conor just looks at the two of them, befuddled.
"Is there anything left to eat? Or is that funny too?" his answer is more laughter.
Fergus hears the commotion and comes over.
"Best leave them be lad, when women laugh like that it's not good for the men."
"What are 'ya talking about? What's so blasted funny?" he demands as Fergus hauls 
him away by the arm. 
"Come along lad, we'll find 'ya some supper over this way..."
"Fergus! What was all that?"
"Were they talking to each other before you got there?"
"Aye, and they stopped just as I did. Then they both looked at me and 
started howl'in like banshees!" Fergus shakes his head in a knowing way.
"Then they were talk'in ABOUT 'ya."
"About me" he repeats solemnly.
Fergus just arches his eyebrows and gives him that knowing look again.
The younger turns to look back at the two women at the other part of the cave. 
He sees they're still talking, sitting close against each other, Molly glancing 
up once to look his way, then quickly hiding her face. He turns back to Fergus,
"What about me?" he asks again.
"Don't ask."
"But I AM ask'in"
"Then it's probably about last night, AND this morn'in..."
Conor swallows hard, suddenly nervous, but he doesn't know quite why. 
Then he sees Molly coming over to him, and she's smiling ear to ear. 
He just stands there, supper bowl in hand and watches her walk to him. 
She reaches up and kisses him square on the mouth. The supper bowl is lost 
on the ground. He takes her around the waist, deepening the kiss and hugging 
her as if he hadn't seen her for weeks. Fergus just stands back, looking on -- 
eyebrows working and face grinning. His mouth is fully engulfing hers, their 
tongues touching. Her body pressing close to his, she squeezes his rear through 
his pants and pulls him suggestively against her hips. The gesture clear, 
he walks her backwards a few steps still holding her, his mouth now hungrily 
roaming her neck and shoulder. A few passing folk smile at them understandingly. 
Fergus clears his throat loudly. Conor suddenly remembers where they are and breaks off.
"Fergus, I'm not hungry. See 'ya tomorrow..." he says, taking Molly by the arm and 
aiming for the side of the cave where their chamber lay. She calling after,
"G'night Da!" and fairly skipping to keep up with Conor.
**********************************
The next morning Fergus calls out at Conor's closed doorway, 
"Conor lad! We've a problem!" The two had been lying awake, softly talking. 
He answers, "What is it Fergus?"
"There's a lad gone missing, his Ma says he fancies the woods, but always 
tells her when he goes off. He's not been heard of for nearly two hours now." 
Rising from the bed, he quickly begins to dress. "I'll be right there!" he calls back. 
Molly looks on concerned, and calls to her Da outside, "Who's the lad Da?" 
"Young Thomas, twelve years and old enough to know not to go off disappear'in." 
Conor steps through the doorway, "Let's gather some men and start a search."
***********************************
Now aboveground, Fergus, Conor and Catlin head off in one direction to the wood, 
while another group begins to circle the Sanctuary compound. Conor calls after, 
"Be mindful of Morgan's men, they may be nearby!" The groups disperse. Once in the 
wood, they split up. No one calls out for the boy, for fear of bringing attention 
to them.  Conor comes across a familiar clearing and kneels to study tracks leading 
across it. Suddenly, a zing sounds in the air followed by a dull thud. He keels over, 
a bolt from a crossbow protruding from both sides of his right leg above the knee. 
Sprawled on his back and gasping, he struggles to sit up. Just as suddenly a sword 
blade is laid beside his neck from behind. 
"Don't bother rising Conor, I can take you as you are." says a deep voice from behind. 
"You should know who would kill you, I am Kellen, son of Morgan. I'm here to collect 
on a family debt." Swallowing and wincing from the pain in his leg, 
"Can't I see your face?" he asks quietly. "No need" was the short reply. 
The blade moves from his neck in preparation to being brought down on him. 
Coming from the right side Fergus plows into the man, staggering him enough
to avert the sword arc. The elder warrior engages him with his sword, left-handed, 
his right arm still too stiff to use. Conor manages to roll away and stand his sword 
out now too. Four other men break into the clearing, swords out and crossbows ready. 
One of the men is holding a boy, bound by the wrists and gagged. Conor sees the boy and yells, 
"Fergus! They have Thomas!" and stops his attack. Kellen pushes Fergus's 
sword away from him and smiles. 
"I knew that boy would come in handy." Walking over to Conor, he takes his 
sword away and pushes roughly down on his shoulder, forcing him heavily to his 
knees. Conor stares him in the eye, 
"So Morgan still holds to this blood oath? And sends his son to act for him?" 
Shrugging, Kellen answers, "Actually, no. My father has all but forgotten the oath. 
I'm here to collect for myself. With your head, I'll have all the power I ever wanted." 
Fergus glares at the man, red-hot rage blazing in his eyes. Conor senses he may attack, 
"Fergus no - the boy." Kellen smiles, eyes alight with anticipation, 
"That's right, the boy. Go quietly Prince and he lives. I'll even spare the old man." 
He again raises his sword above Conor's neck. A deadly silence hangs, broken by the 
small sound of a twig snapping. Kellen's head snaps up as an arrow pierces his throat, 
and immediately gushes forth a fountain of blood. Catlin roars and plunges into the
clearing, bow down, sword up and slashing. Fergus takes on the two nearest him while
Conor dives to retrieve his sword. The boy has the common sense to drop and roll 
away from the fighting, lying quietly to the side. Kellen sinks to the ground all 
but dead on his feet, blood still spurting. Fergus dispatches his two men as Catlin 
finishes off her man. Conor is wrestling on the ground with the last, frees a hand, 
grabs his dagger from his boot top and plunges it into the man's heart, rolling the 
body away. 
"Let's see that leg lad." The elder kneels to inspect the bolt now tearing at the 
flesh at both ends. "It's bleed'in badly, we'll have to tie it off before mov'in 'ya." 
Cat removes a cord from her hair, handing it to Fergus. They apply a tourniquet 
above the wound, tightening it with a twig. "Not so tight, I want to keep the leg." 
the younger gasps. "It won't be tight for long, just bear with it." Cat unties the boy, 
Thomas, who's still shaking from fear and excitement. He looks to Conor and hangs his 
head, "I'm sorry 'ya got hurt 'cause of me..." he starts, eyes blinking back tears. 
The young leader holds out his arm to the boy and smiles warmly, 
"Good will always triumph over evil...now come help me stand."  
The four head back to the Sanctuary, supporting Conor between them. 
*************************************
A short while later in Conor's chamber, "Shame to cut that boot, just had it broken in..." 
sighs Conor, watching as Fergus's blade slices through the leather freeing his 
swollen foot. "Better to lose a boot than a foot!" snaps Catlin. She's sitting 
behind Conor's head and back on the bed, supporting his shoulders with herself, 
he was nearly too weak to sit up alone. The wound had bled all the way back, despite 
the tourniquet and even more so after removing it, the bolt still embedded. 
"All right now lad, I'm going to try to push it through, slow and steady, you 
just think on...." he swiftly punches Conor in the jaw, just hard enough to send 
him unconscious. Cat catches him and holds on tightly, "He'll be angry you did that..."
she warns. Just then Molly enters and sees Conor sprawled on the bed, out cold, 
and a bloody mess. 
"Oh no! Oh Da -- what's happened?" as she rushes to his side. 
Fergus stands to hold her, 
"He's taken a bolt in the leg and I just put him to sleep. 
Now I'll need you to help Cat hold him still while I get that bolt out of him." 
Swallowing hard, fighting back her tears, Molly nods and bites her lip, 
obediently taking hold of Conor's legs. Fergus proceeds with his task, 
hoping the lad doesn't wake before he's done. It moves some, but he must resort 
to striking the back end with a stone, pounding it twice to force enough of it 
through the leg to grab on the far end. Had Conor been awake for this, he would 
have been in agony. Finally, after much grunting, Fergus wins out - the bolt is freed! 
The wound bleeds some more from both openings. Molly takes over to pack the wound 
with special healing herbs and wraps it securely, finishing the ordeal. 
"If it doesn't stop bleed'in, we'll have to hold a hot iron to it. Watch him closely." 
Molly gathers some cloths and warm water, "I have to wash him Cat, I can't 
stand seeing all that blood." Nodding, Cat slides out from behind his head 
and begins to leave. "Catlin, will 'ya help me?" asks Molly, knowing that the
other woman held strong affection for him as well. Smiling, she nods yes and 
they both bend to the task. Fergus makes a hasty pallet near the fire pit and 
lays down to rest, his own arm paining him. Each of them wondering how Conor will fare... 
he had lost a deal of blood and fever was always a threat.
**********************************