Ciara—Abduction

	On the second day of fighting, three cavalry units ambushed each other east of the city.  A few of the riders panicked, and their horses broke through the new wall.  After that, the fighting spilled over into the city itself.  Most of the rabbits hid.  They had deep basements, and they were good at keeping out of the way.  Because he couldn’t go home, Ciara kept Fiachra safe in her house.
	They stayed in the living room and kept one of the windows open.  They pushed all of Ciara’s furniture against the walls as a shield against stray arrows.  Ciara paced, and went to the window every few minutes to watch the fighting.  She was too angry to be frightened, and too tired to do anything about it.  A few arrows hit the house, but she felt better when she could see what was happening, and the worst of the fighting was on the other side of the city.
	Fiachra sat in one corner, making a fresh bandage for her.  They didn’t have any more linen, so he had one of her old shirts instead.  The sound of tearing cloth set her teeth on edge.
	“They aren't my family.  They wouldn’t even listen to me,” she said.
	“You don’t have to claim them.  They don’t seem to want you very much, either,” said Fiachra.
	“But they’re all I’ve got,” she said.
	“You know that isn’t true,” he said.
Fiachra spread the new bandage out flat, and picked up a shallow bowl that sat beside him.  It held a greenish paste, which Feargus had given them.  He stirred it around with one finger, and wrinkled his nose at the smell, then smeared it on the bandage and wiped his hand on his pants.
	“No.  I have Niamh.  And you,” she said.
	She saw the insides of Fiachra's ears color, before he brushed them down to hide them from her.
	“Saoirse, too.  She might not say so, but she's grateful to you for making Niamh so happy,” he said.
	He held up the bandage, to show it was ready.  She took off her shirt, and sat down in front of him.  Her shoulder didn’t hurt much anymore, but the wound was still tender.  When he touched her, she shivered.
	“It doesn’t look that bad,” he said.
	“It’s not that. I’m fine,” she said.
	He scooted closer, and rubbed at the fur around her wound with a hot cloth.
	“I should still be out there, doing something.  It’s my fault,” she said.
	“You know better than that,” he said.
	“But I failed.”
	“I don't want to hear that word out of your mouth again.”
	He put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed, working her muscles loose with his fingers.  The way he smelled, of soap and spices, comforted her, and reminded her of Niamh.  He was as kind as his sister was, too.  Fiachra, she was beginning to realize, was a lot more like his sister than she had thought.
	“You heard what your mother said.  There was no way you could have stopped this from happening.  And we had time to build the wall,” he said.
	“That did a lot of good, didn’t it?” she said.
	“It did what it was supposed to do.”
	He rubbed harder, and she began to relax, in spite of her worries.  She closed her eyes and laid her head back on Fiachra’s shoulder.  She did it without thinking, because it was something she had done with Niamh.  Fiachra slipped his arms around her waist, and she curled up into his warmth.
	“I love you, too,” he said.
	The kiss only lasted as long as it took for her to open her eyes.  Startled, she fled to the window, with the taste of him lingering on her tongue.
	Outside, everything had gone quiet.  She heard Fiachra walk up behind her, but he didn’t touch her.  She wished he would, and then felt ashamed for it.  Deep in her heart, she had always been attracted to him.  But they had always argued so much, she’d never believed he could feel the same for her.  Then she’d fallen for Niamh, and put him out of her mind, and it wasn’t fair for her to be attracted to him now.
	“I’m sorry,” he said.
	“It isn’t your fault,” she said.
	“No, it is.  It wasn't right for me to do that.  You've been hurt enough,” he said.
	“It was... I wanted that for a long time.  But you wouldn't say two words to me, and then there was Niamh.”
	“I knew her heart before she did.  And she's still waiting for you.  That's why I didn't want you to leave,” he said.
	Deirdre burst through he door without bothering to knock, and blew them apart.  Fiachra went back to his ointments, ears bright red.  Ciara turned away without looking at her mother, and went over to the kitchen area to make tea.  Niamh always drank it when she was upset, and she needed the familiar ritual now.
	“You should ask before you come barging into someone else’s home,” she said.
	“This is my house.  I paid for it,” said Deirdre.
	Deirdre wandered into the kitchen, and jumped up on the counter by the sink.  The tip of her sword scratched a long groove in the granite counter, and she swung her legs back and forth like an impatient child.
	“You paid for part of it, but then you never came back.  I had to pay the rest, myself.  So now it’s mine,” said Ciara.
	She dipped out a kettleful of water from the barrel next to the stove, and dug a box of matches out of a drawer.  The fire caught on Ciara's third try, and she balanced the kettle on its hook.
	“You’ve settled in, and even found a boyfriend.  That’s good.  I was afraid you’d be miserable here,” said Deirdre.
	“Fiachra is just a friend.”
	“Do you parade around half naked in front of all your friends?”
	“It was for the bandage.”
	“I don’t care.  He is kind of cute,” said Deirdre.
	Ciara took down three heavy mugs from their hooks above Deirdre’s head and poured the tea.  She swatted her mother's careless tail away from the hot stove, and joined Fiachra in his corner.  Deirdre stayed by the counter and pawed through the cupboards, looking for something to eat.
	“I had to get used to Oseille.  I didn’t think you were ever going to come back for me.  After a while, I just decided that I liked it.  My love life is none of your business, and I’m not going to let you destroy what I've got,” said Ciara.
	Fiachra put the medicated pad on her shoulder and smoothed it down, so it would stick.  Whatever was in the paste stung when it touched the cut, and she had to dig her claws into the carpet while he wound the bandage around her.
	“I meant to come back.  But when Connor lost the war, he couldn’t pay me everything he owed, and I had to go to the mainland to find work.  You would have been miserable,” said Deirdre.
	“Is that how foxes raise their children?  Do you all care so little for your children?” said Fiachra.
	Deirdre swiveled her ears uncertainly back and forth, and curled her tail protectively around her waist.  Ciara hid a smirk behind her cup of tea.
	“I just tried to do what was best.  She didn't need me,” she said.
	“So you just ran away?  Some hero you are,” said Fiachra.
	“I've got a little money saved up,” said Deirdre, and she turned to look straight at Ciara.  “Maybe, if you’d like, we can go somewhere else once this is all over.  We can find a better place to live.”
	Ciara felt Fiachra's anger in the way his hands trembled, and she laid a finger on his mouth to keep him silent.
	“I don’t need it.  If you must, give your money to the town.  They did everything you should have been here to do, and they didn’t have to.  They didn’t owe me anything,” she said.
	“I wanted to come back,” said Deirdre.
	“No, you didn’t.  If you had, you would have done it.”
	“But I did.”
	Deirdre came and squatted down in front of her, with her tail curled around her ankles.  The older vixen rested her elbows on her knees, and laid her hands against her forehead.  It was a gesture of prayer, but the effect was spoiled by her flattened ears.
	“Let me try to make it up.  Come back to Blackpool with me, and we’ll talk to Sabia.  She doesn’t want the war, either, and she might be able to help you,” said Deirdre.
	“Why should she?  She rules the biggest city on the island, I shoe horses for a living.  At least Connor has to listen to me,” she said.
	“Just trust me.”
	“Again?  No.  You don’t get me back that easily,” said Ciara.
	Deirdre didn’t look up, but her self-control slipped, and the end of her tail lashed back and forth.  When it did, it hit Fiachra’s cup and splashed hot tea in Ciara’s lap.  She jumped up, spilling her own cup into the carpet, and brushed at the spreading stains on her legs.  Her mother sat still, clearly embarrassed, but unwilling to help.
	“You should have just stayed away.  I spent all these years waiting for you to come back, but now that you’re here, everything is the same as it always was,” she said.
	Ciara gathered up the teacups and put them in the sink, so she could avoid looking at her mother.  Deirdre drifted over to the window.  Her soldiers were marching up the street outside, and she didn’t bother to hide her envy as they went past.
	“I can't blame you for not coming back.  I know you hated motherhood, I could hear you and Connor arguing sometimes.  I would have run away, too.  But you can’t come back, and expect everything to be the same as it was,” she said.
Ciara left her mother standing by the window and went downstairs to find a dry pair of pants.  She closed her bedroom door quietly and sat down on the edge of her bed.  Overwhelmed with anger and exhaustion, she hid her face in her pillow, and let herself cry for a while.  She hadn't wept since she was twelve.
After a few minutes, her door clicked open when somebody on the other side pushed it.  Nerves frayed, she leapt up snarling, and yanked it the rest of the way open.  On the other side Fiachra cringed and held up her shirt in front of him.  She reached out to take it, but he pulled it out of her reach.
	“You have to promise me that you’ll stay here.  I don’t want you to go to Cearnach again.  I don’t want you to get killed trying to fix something that isn’t your fault,” he said.
	“Do you like having soldiers camped out around the city, and fighting in the streets?  I’m not going to sit around and watch them destroy this place,” she said.
	Ciara turned and rifled through her wardrobe, looking for clean clothes.  But she had taken everything she owned to Cearnach.  Fiachra came in, and let the door swing shut behind him.
	“Oseille has been destroyed three times.  Cities can always be rebuilt, but vixens can’t,” he said.
	“Neither can rabbits,” she said.
	There was an old denim skirt stuffed into one corner of the bottom drawer of the wardrobe.  It was something that Niamh had lent to her a long time ago, and Ciara had worn it once. But it still smelled like the cinnamon perfume Niamh sometimes wore.  She pressed her nose against the cloth and breathed in the smell of it before she put it on.  The skirt was a little too big for her, and came down to just past her knees.  But wearing it made her feel a little better.
	“If you won’t stay here, then I’m coming with you.  There’s no way I’m going to let you out of my sight now,” said Fiachra.
	She slapped the wardrobe door shut and had to bite her tongue to stifle a yelp at the stab of pain in her arm.  If Fiachra saw, she’d never get away from him.
	“No.  I wish I’d had enough sense to stop Niamh from following me.  I’m not going to put you in danger, too,” she said.
	“You couldn’t have stopped her.  You know how much she loves you.  She would have followed you no matter what you did.  So will I.”
	She grabbed for her shirt again, but he snatched it out of the way and hid it behind his back.
	“What about your shoulder?  You need someone to help you take care of yourself,” he said.
	“They have doctors in Cearnach,” she said.  
	“This is my home, too, and I’m not going to let you go out there by yourself.  If you do, you might not come back, and I love you too much to let you throw your life away,” he said.
	“I know.  But I’ll be safer by myself.  Embarr’s fast enough to keep me safe, but if he has to carry you, too, he might not be able to run as fast.  Now give me my shirt, please, it’s cold,” she said.
	When they went back upstairs, Deirdre was gone.  Ciara felt a stab of guilt, which made her angry.  Her mother had run away from her all her life.  She’d knew better than to expect Deirdre to ever change.  But it still hurt, and she expected better from herself.
She pushed Fiachra out ahead of her, and slammed the door.  Because the rest of the city was so still, the sound it made was louder than she expected.  She locked the door, even though there wasn’t much left in the house that was worth stealing, and she vaulted over the low wooden fence she’d built to separate her house from the rest of the town.
Embarr was waiting for her beside the gate, and he whinnied in her ear when she landed.  Ciara flung her arms around his neck in greeting, and he raised his head, and pulled her up off the ground.  She braced her feet against the top of the fence, and bounced up onto his back from there.  Embarr pranced around in a circle while she got settled and dug her fingers into his mane.  He was warm and solid under her, and she knew she could count on Embarr not to abandon her.
	“I’m only going to give you a few weeks.  If you haven’t come home by then, I’ll come and get you out of there,” said Fiachra.
	“I’ll be back.  I’m not going to let that happen, either,” she said.
When she had her seat, she let Embarr go.  He whirled around with a flip of his head and trotted down the street, gathering speed.  He hit a gallop by the time he reached the city gates and she hunkered down and shut her eyes, without looking back.

	Ciara caught up with Connor not far from the city.  Only a few of his soldiers were still with him.  Most of them were injured, and two of them had been draped across their horses backs like sacks of flour.  The smell of blood was thick, and the faces of the soldiers were grim and dispirited.  Connor’s right arm was bandaged and bound in a sling, and he had lost the tip of his right ear.  There were long, shallow scratches on Thirteen’s shoulder, and her head drooped with exhaustion.  But when Embarr drew up beside the mare, she raised her head and snorted at him in greeting.  Connor kept his head down, and wouldn’t look at any of them.
	“I told you to go home.  I wanted to keep you safe, but you wouldn’t listen to me,” he said.
	“I asked you to go home, too, for all the good that did,” she said.
	They went down a steep hill, and Ciara twisted around to watch Oseille disappear over the top of it.  It hurt to leave while there were still soldiers camped out around her home, but she didn’t have any other choice.
	“Is your mother okay?” said Connor.
	“As far as I could tell.  She was too busy to say,” said Ciara.
	Connor smiled a little, and scratched at his injured arm.
	“She’ll never change,” he said.
	“Neither will you.  You’re just going to keep pushing your luck until it runs out, and you get yourself killed,” she said.
	Connor unhooked a canteen from his saddle horn and tossed it over to her.  She caught it, sniffed cautiously, and wrinkled her nose at the smell of whiskey.
	“Drink it.  It’ll help with the pain in your shoulder,” said Connor.
	She poured the alcohol out on the ground instead, and flung the canteen away into the bushes.
	“No wonder you lost.  Were you actually stupid enough to be drunk while you were out there on the battlefield?  You could have been killed,” she said.
	“Of course not.  I hadn’t drunk any of it, yet.  But I have to have something to calm myself down afterwards.  I’m not brave, like you,” he said.
	“You don’t have to fight, to be a good king, you just have to think.  You just have to do what’s best for everyone,” she said.
	“You say that like you think it’s easy,” said Connor.  He flattened his ears, and refused to look at her for the rest of the day.
	They set up camp at sundown, under a grove of thin, sickly oaks and ate a quick supper of stale bread and sour wine.  The soldiers grudgingly shared the bread with her, but she refused the wine, and drank water instead.  After supper, three of them left to prowl around the edge of the camp, out of the range of the firelight.  The rest of Connor’s troops spread out their sleeping bags around him.  Whether through haste, or a desire to travel quickly, they hadn’t brought tents, and even Connor had to sleep out in the open.  Nobody offered her so much as a blanket.  Since she wasn’t a prisoner, and they weren’t obliged to watch her, they pretended she didn’t exist.  Ciara ignored them in return, and lay down a little way away with her back against a tree.
She woke a little while later when Deirdre squatted down beside her, and clamped a hand across her muzzle.  There was just enough moonlight left for her to see her mother’s teeth when she grinned.
	“Your father isn’t that bad, as far as kings go.  He actually cares about his people, and that’s pretty rare..  But he stinks at being a soldier,” said Deirdre.	
	Ciara pushed herself up into a sitting position, but she kept quiet.  If Connor’s guards woke up, they might both be in trouble.  Deirdre didn’t have her sword drawn, but she’d moved it around to the front, where it was more obvious.  It was hard to tell in the dark, but it looked like she had already used it at least once.
	“If he was anybody else, I’d just cut his throat now, and save everyone a lot of trouble.  It might even be the kindest thing I could do for him,” she said.
	“I don't believe you,” said Ciara.
	“No, you're right.  If he was anyone else, I'd just quit right now and go somewhere far away from here.  Your boy was right, there,” said Deirdre.
	Outside, away from her army, she looked older than she had in Oseille.  She kept her ears alert, and listened for any sign of movement from Connor’s guards.  But she smelled like she’d been boosting her courage with drink, just like he had been doing.
	“Connor has had his turn, and it didn’t do you any good.  You’ll be better off with me, anyway.  At least I can keep you safe,” she said.
	“And if I say no?” said Ciara.
	“Then either I pick you up and carry you, or the guards find us arguing.  Don't think they will have any qualms about murder,” said Deirdre.
	“What about Embarr?  I’m not going to leave him behind.”
	“You have to.  Horses make too much noise, and I want to get out of here without being heard.”
	“But he's my friend,” said Ciara.
	“I know.  I told Connor that letting you take that beast was a bad idea,” said Deirdre.
	Embarr lay on the ground not far from where she had been sleeping.  He hadn’t stirred or raised his head, but his eyes were open, and he was watching them.  One of his ears jerked up when they started to back away from the camp, but she held out a hand, palm down, to get him to keep still.  They walked calmly away from the camp, and Deirdre didn’t relax her hold until they were a safe distance away.  Ciara looked back once, before the camp disappeared over a hill, and she saw Embarr standing at the top of the hill, looking after them.